They Shook Hands : Year Five (Post-Canon Revision)
by Dethryl
Summary: The war has begun. The evil forces of Lord Voldemort have overrun Azkaban prison, and the Ministry of Magic and the Order of the Phoenix struggle to prevent the wizarding world from collapsing. Harry spends the summer cooped up in Grimmauld Place, but he really just wants to do something. Fortunately, the new Defence teacher helps the students prepare to fight the darkness.
1. Recovery

**Chapter One - Recovery**

In Harry Potter's opinion, the Triwizard Cup looked smashing in the sitting room. It was made of intricately wrought steel, with pieces of crystal forming the sides of the goblet. Soft blue light emanated from the crystal, pulsing in no discernable rhythm or frequency. The words "Champion of Champions" were carved into the base.

The prize was Harry's to hold on to for the next five years, until the Tournament came again. It could even be longer than that. The latest attempt to revive the competitions had come after a lapse of two hundred years. Until it was needed again, the trophy rested on a stone plinth that Harry had created from a bit of wooden tree stump.

Harry's Transfiguration skills had improved steadily during the last year, but he still hadn't progressed to the point where he could work well with living tissue (that wasn't his own body). Inanimate objects were another story, as he'd discovered in the first task. However, changing dead wood to never-alive stone was a fair bit easier. After a bit of replication (to increase the size of the stump) and some creative Charm-work (to shape it), he had called upon all his talent at Transfiguration and made his pillar.

Beads of sweat trickled down Harry's face. He was done, at last, but the result was not as fine as he'd imagined. It looked wrong, somehow. He frowned, all the pleasure derived from his successful Transfiguration now gone. He should be ecstatic at being the youngest Triwizard champion in history. He should have been thrilled at beating the best that Durmstrang Institute, Beauxbatons Academy, and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had to offer, but he was not. He felt cold fingers of fear around his heart, causing the hairs on his neck to prickle. He wanted to smash the thing and run away.

Harry shuddered. The pillar he had created looked quite a lot like the one where the Triwizard Cup had rested in the dark and dangerous maze. He'd faced many challenges there: dementors, sphinxes, sentient vines, disorientation magic, fire traps, and more had tested his skills and determination. Then after fighting and sneaking his way past all of that, Harry had had to duel the other Champions to boot. The third task had taken him to his physical and magical limit. He'd never been so terrified. The dangers had never stopped coming unless the Maze was trying to lull him into a false sense of security. Nothing could be trusted. Harry had been betrayed by seemingly innocuous creepers, simple stones, and ordinary hedges. His mind had been stretched in strange directions. The task had taken him to his emotional and mental limit. He'd left a part of himself there.

Or maybe it had been left at another place. Harry had won the Triwizard Tournament, grabbing hold of the Cup that now stood on the plinth. The Cup had been a Portkey, bringing him to the most dismal place on Earth: Azkaban prison.

Voldemort had seized the island fortress and had made it into his own private residence. It was to this deadly place that Harry had been whisked away. The guards, the soul-sucking dementors, had defected from the Ministry of Magic and taken Voldemort's side. The news of this unholy alliance had sent more than one person groping for the smelling salts. The dementors had freed the followers of Voldemort, the Death Eaters, who had killed and tortured with abandon during the last war. The Aurors stationed on the island had been murdered, their corpses desecrated.

Harry's anger at his parents' betrayer, Peter Pettigrew, had been rekindled. Last year he had personally watched Pettigrew receive the Dementor's Kiss and lose his soul in a feeding most unspeakable. Seeing the traitor walk from the shadows in the courtyard had been like a Bludger to the gut.

The eyes had changed. The once simpering orbs had been empty, but were now filled with a cruel intelligence. An evil soul had taken up residence in the body, and the eyes burned red with the fires of hell that Voldemort was barely staying out of.

Voldemort had tried to kill Harry as a baby and had tried to kill him again that night. If not for Lucius Malfoy snatching Harry from under Voldemort's nose, Harry would now be dead. His best mate's father had taken an unbelievable risk. He'd once bowed down but refused to again, and this defiance could easily get the whole Malfoy family killed. To turn against Voldemort, and to his face, no less, was about as suicidal behaviour as one could get and took a depth of fortitude that humbled Harry. He felt uncomfortable with displays of affection. The only other people who had ever gone to such lengths were his parents and godfather. They had always fought against Voldemort; Mr. Malfoy had betrayed him. Harry was determined to make sure he'd made the right choice.

The war that had been over for a dozen years had been reignited. The assault on the island prison was surely only the first step of his plan to achieve dominion. So far the response of the Ministry had been to give a lot of speeches. The Dark Lord, it was warned, would enslave them or kill them all. Mostly they were patriotic in nature, urging all British wizards to stand up for the values of freedom and self-determination. Surprisingly enough, the Ministry was doing fairly well at it. The Daily Prophet reported that Auror recruitment was on the rise. There were lots of postings in the Help Wanted section as well, mostly Ministry positions. It seemed they were going to be serious about being ready for this fight.

St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was also hiring. They were advertising for administrative and support positions as well as radically changing the protocol for becoming a Healer. It normally required a great investment of time and money to take many expensive courses, but now those courses were being fast-tracked and offered for free. Of course, the instructors reserved the right to wash out anyone who was pants at it, but the need for Healers was foreseen to be such that the Ministry had paid the tab.

Even the goblins who owned Gringotts, the wizarding bank, thought trouble was coming. The Daily Prophet reported they had begun refusing any new loan applications and quietly upping the interest rates on existing loans. There was quite an outrage over these new practices in the editorial pages (Harry thought the editor must have a loan with Gringotts), but a spokesgoblin was quoted as telling customers to check the fine print and then investigate the definition of 'adjustable'.

All of this was running through Harry's head as he looked at his trophy. By Merlin, the coming troubles were enough to make anyone want to _do_ something, but Harry had another reason as well. Voldemort had been the one who killed his parents, leaving him orphaned. It was his mother's sacrifice that had protected him when Voldemort turned his wand on Harry, but it was scant comfort. Harry had a goal in life: to become strong enough to destroy Voldemort.

"Admiring your prize?" came a light-hearted voice from behind him.

Harry smiled and turned to see his godfather, Sirius Black, standing in the doorway. In their will, Harry's parents had named their good and dear friend as Harry's guardian. Though there had been a few hiccups in the plan, everything had eventually worked out. Sirius had given him a real home and shown him genuine love. By Merlin, he loved Sirius right back.

"No, just thinking about what I had to go through to get it," Harry answered quietly. "I'm lucky to be standing here."

Sirius nodded. "I know. I've had quite a few sleepless nights about it, too. I nearly lost you, and there was nothing I could have done."

"I thought I might lose you too," Harry said. The second task had threatened the thing he held most dear. He'd found Sirius on the bottom of Black Lake. His terror that day still haunted his nightmares.

"A person could go mad thinking about this too much. I'm just glad someone was smiling on you."

"Mister Malfoy."

"I'd rather imagine it was your mum and dad." Sirius didn't like Mr. Malfoy; even though he tried not to be too inflammatory, his opinion did slip out fairly often.

"Yeah, all three did." Harry decided to change the subject. He didn't like remembering that night. "Is Moony back yet?"

In preparation for the coming fight against the Darkness, Albus Dumbledore had sent Remus Lupin (Moony to his friends) on a secret mission to alert the "old crowd", a covert resistance group dating back to the first war called the Order of the Phoenix. Its members once included James and Lily Potter as well as Sirius himself. Dumbledore was presently the Headmaster of Hogwarts, but he had once been and was now again the leader of the Order. It was made up of witches and wizards personally loyal to Dumbledore, people he knew he could trust. He was widely touted as the only wizard Voldemort had feared to face, but you couldn't fight the Darkness alone. Many had decided to stand with Dumbledore.

Sirius had shown Harry an old picture of the group. It was wonderful to be able to see his parents, and it filled him with pride that they'd stood up against Voldemort.

"No, not yet. It should be any time, though."

"Good. I want to know what's happening."

"Voldemort has been relatively quiet since his raid on Azkaban. We think he's been reinforcing his position."

"Why haven't the Aurors hit him before he's ready, then?" Harry was eager to strike back at the evil wizard.

"We think they tried that," Sirius said grimly. "They're being very hush-hush about it, but several top Aurors haven't been seen lately, and the rumours are flying thick and furious at the Ministry."

"How do you know what's going on at the Ministry?"

"I got a letter from Dumbledore." Sirius tone was heavy. He didn't sound pleased at the communication.

"What does he say?"

"Not much. There's supposed to be a meeting a week from Thursday."

"A week!" Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. A week was too long to go without taking action. "Aren't we going to do anything?"

"These things take careful planning, Harry. I would think you'd appreciate that," Sirius joked lightly.

"Yeah, yeah, Slytherins plan everything, but we should be having meetings. Organizing; something, anything other than sitting around."

"Ah, you need some chores to do, is that it? Kreacher might be offended."

"Sirius, you know what I mean," Harry said with a roll of his eyes. He felt his godfather was taking the lack of activity a little too lightly.

Thankfully, Sirius stopped joking. "I do, Harry, but it's okay. He can't just walk into the Minister's office and kill him and start issuing orders. Even the professional bureaucrats at the Ministry might have a problem with that. We have some time yet."

"May I go to the meeting? I want to join. I'll help any way I can." Even though Dumbledore ran the Order, if the Order was against Voldemort, then Harry wanted in.

"I'll pass that along," Sirius said solemnly, "and perhaps I shall be unable to find anyone suitable to stay here with you on the night of the meeting. Perhaps I shall have no choice but to bring you with me."

Harry shot Sirius a conspiratorial grin. "What a shame," he said facetiously.

They smirked at each other for several moments.

"I still can't believe the meeting isn't for another week."

"Apparently there's nothing to report on yet. Damned foolishness if you ask me. Dumbledore says he's waiting on information."

"From whom?"

Sirius looked away. "From someone."

"Someone close to Voldemort?" Harry asked. "Is it Professor Snape?"

"Yes, it's Snape."

"He's still off with the Death Eaters?"

Professor Snape, Head of Slytherin House, had told Harry a tiny bit of his lifestory. It turned out that Snape had been a spy in the ranks of Voldemort's followers. Now he was going to try to continue in that role. It was a dangerous task, fraught with peril of death and torture. Harry had worried about his teacher ever since Voldemort's return.

"Yes. Either it's taking him some time to convince Voldemort he's still loyal, or he's busy spilling everything he knows about Hogwarts. Or he could be dead."

Snape dead? Harry hadn't considered the possibility of his Potions Master not being able to pull off his role as spy. He'd managed it during the last war, but maybe roaming around as a spirit had made Voldemort more suspicious. Maybe he'd judged Snape already from the time he'd spent on the back of Professor Quirrell's head. Harry had seen Snape again before school let out, but he'd said that he'd only managed to talk himself back into a kind of probationary status. His words had been accepted. Now he needed to make his actions match his words. If Voldemort decided to execute Snape, how would they even know?

"I'm sure Snape isn't celebrating with the Death Eaters," Harry said confidently. "If anything he's had to talk non-stop to keep his skin, but he can do it."

"Snape could talk the wings off a Chinese Fireball," Sirius said grudgingly, "and then convince it to give him a ride home afterwards. If anyone can lie to Voldemort and get away with it, he can."

"So there's not going to be a meeting until Dumbledore hears from Snape?"

"Right. We need to know Voldemort's plans before we start making our own."

"I know his plan already. He wants to be the bloody Minister for Magic, only I don't think he wants to get there legally."

"Right, and the Ministry and the Aurors will handle that aspect of public security. Merlin, save us all," Sirius added, "but it will ultimately be the Order that lets us bring him down."

"Once they finally have a meeting," Harry interjected.

"Yes, once they have a meeting," Sirius agreed blandly, "but haste makes waste, as the saying goes. Better to take the time to do it properly rather than go off half-cocked and get a bunch of people killed because there wasn't a plan. You should understand that. Slytherins and planning go hand in hand."

Harry chuckled. "If you say so, Sirius."

"You're getting to look a bit shaggy there, young man," Sirius said suddenly. "Isn't it about time for you to start shaving?"

Harry felt himself blushing for no reason. "I guess. I don't know how though."

Vernon certainly hadn't offered to show him. When Harry had been seven, he'd gotten into Vernon's shave kit and made a mess of the bathroom. The thrashing he'd earned that day had been particularly bad, because there was no way to escape in such a small room. His bottom had been bruised for a week, and sitting down had been impossible. Harry had coped by deciding he didn't care anyway. There was a lot that Harry had made up his mind he didn't care about. Now he found himself eager.

"It's really very simple," Sirius declared. "Come with me."

Sirius led Harry to the bathroom on the third floor. He turned the faucets and filled the sink with hot steaming water. He handed Harry a bar of what looked like soap.

"Get your face wet and lather up real well. I'll get the razor ready."

Sirius reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a pocket knife. He flipped open the blade, pointed his wand at it, and cast a Sharpening Charm.

"Always cast the Charm anew every time. Nothing is worse for your face than a dull razor. That lather is looking about right. Hold the razor like so," he demonstrated, "and take it in slow strokes. Slow. If you rush this, you _will_ injure yourself."

"Right." Harry was eyeing the gleaming razor with some trepidation. "Isn't there some sort of Shaving Charm?"

Harry had learned that magic could do many things since he'd joined the wizarding world. All manner of mundane tasks could be achieved with the wave of a wand. He was constantly impressed with what magic could accomplish.

"There was a wizard who tried to develop one, but he lacked fine control and slit his own throat at a demonstration panel. He bled to death before anyone from the Committee for Experimental Charms could heal him. Enthusiasm has been rather low ever since."

Harry shuddered. "That's gruesome."

"You asked."

All in all, Harry's first shaving experience went without a great deal of fuss. It took considerably longer than he thought it would, but he had been very mindful of Sirius' admonition against haste.

"Especially be careful around the nose. It can be regrown, but you'll be in for a load of teasing."

"Right."

When Harry finished, his face felt very peculiar. The small cuts he'd given himself were quickly healed with a minor Charm. He'd once had a bad sunburn from being out in the garden too long, and whole patches of skin had peeled off; the feeling was very similar, just not painful. He went to hand the razor back to Sirius.

"Keep it. You'll need it again. Once your beard really comes in, you'll have to shave at least every couple of days."

"How long until that happens?"

"Probably another five years or so, but you'll still use that razor about once a week, I'd imagine. Are you hungry?"

Harry was quiet through lunch. Shaving felt very peculiar because it was such a grown-up thing. Yet there could be no denying that he was getting older. He was going to be fifteen at the end of the month, going into his fifth year at school, where he harboured vague hopes of being made a prefect like his mother had been.

He even had a girlfriend. How that happened, Harry still wasn't entirely sure. He'd gone from wanting to be just friends with his classmate and fellow Slytherin Tracy Davis to dating Padma Patil, one of the prettiest girls in Hogwarts. They'd been together for six months, ever since he'd asked her to the Yule Ball. Her twin sister Parvati was currently seeing Draco in a nice, neat sort of way.

Padma was funny, smart, and fun to snog. He enjoyed sitting next to her in class or walking through the corridors holding hands with her. She made him feel good, and her smile made his stomach do flip-flops.

An owl turned up that very moment bearing a missive from Padma, as if thinking of her had caused it to appear. The owl refused to hand over the letter until it got a reward. Harry reached into his pocket and tossed the bird a treat. The owl crunched down the snack in two huge gulps, and Harry snatched the parchment away. The writing was fancy script and done in blue ink.

My darling Harry,

I know it's the first day of hols, but I wanted to send you a quick note to say I'm thinking of you. I didn't see you on the train, and I missed you. I know you and Sirius have a lot to catch up on, but give me a firecall soon.

Yours,

Padma

P.S.: Shiva likes toast.

Harry had not taken the train because Sirius was waiting for him at the platform with the motorbike, so they could fly back to London. He supposed Padma might be a little bit upset with him for that. They hadn't planned to sit together on the train, per se, but Harry knew that eventually they would have found each other. He hadn't even managed a proper goodbye. There had been no long snog to make them both dizzy.

"Sirius? How bad is it going to be this summer? With the war, I mean. Will we still be able to go places and do things?"

"Like what?"

"Well, I've got this girlfriend. I may have mentioned her a time or two. Pretty Indian girl named Padma. I would sort of like to see her a few times. Snog a bit. You know."

"Ah, yes, the endless days of summer. How well I remember them," Sirius said with a sudden far-away look in his eyes. It lasted only a moment as he looked somberly at Harry. "I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed, Harry. Now that Voldemort is back, the world is a very dangerous place. You don't have the blood protections you once did. That's my fault, and I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Harry yelped. He'd expected Sirius to reluctantly enforce house arrest but had never imagined he'd blame himself. "Don't you dare be sorry!"

"The protections were broken when I offered you this home last summer." Sirius sounded sorrowful.

Harry was determined to stop Sirius' guilt trip. He declared flatly, "The protection was broken when I walked out two summers ago. I took my things and left. You saw me that night. I swore never to go back."

Sirius heaved a great sigh. "You should never have had to live with the Dursleys. I'm so sorry. I should never have given you to Hagrid that night. I let my thirst for blood get the better of me and I forgot my responsibility. It'll never happen again."

Harry felt himself start to choke up. Sirius' guilt was still so raw. He wrapped Sirius up in a manly hug.

"It's not your fault," he said when he could speak. "It's Voldemort's fault."

"Right. Right," Sirius said, clearing his throat. "Now he's back. The world is a risky place. Without your mother's protection, you are vulnerable to him. We can't risk you. You're safe only as long as you remain here under the Fidelius Charm. As you're not the Secret Keeper, you won't be able to speak the name of this destination, so you can't Floo in. I've left the connection open so that we might use it to escape if needed."

"I can't go out at all?"

"Not without a guard - myself and Remus. Since he won't be around much, that limits that."

"Why two?

"One to take on Voldemort, and one to Apparate you to safety."

"So I have to stay here all summer?"

"I'm afraid so. We'll be able to arrange one trip to Diagon Alley for school shopping, but that's all. It's just too dangerous."

"How do I tell Padma? She's not going to take this well."

"Frankly, Harry, you have more important concerns than your love life. You can deal with your girlfriend being mad at you. It's not as bad as Voldemort being mad at you, and he is absolutely furious with you."

Somehow, that thought failed to terrify Harry. Maybe he was being a bit cavalier, but having escaped him three times, Harry was more afraid for his friends and family than himself. "Because I got away."

"Right. Few people survive his fury, and I intend that you're going to be one of them."

"That makes two of us."

So he wouldn't be able to leave Grimmauld Place all summer. Harry chaffed just a little bit at being restricted, and it made him want to kick something. Wasn't he nearly fifteen? He was a Triwizard Champion. He could take care of himself.

"Well if you're going to keep me holed up for the whole holiday, I hope you at least planned some activities."

"I figured we could do a fair amount of weight-lifting. Got to get those muscles as big as possible before you go back to school. We don't have any new music, I'm afraid, as I haven't really had much of a chance to go shopping. Don't forget that we still have a bunch of music crystals we haven't listened to yet, and we can play all our favourites.

"Plus I want to see how well you can duel. I want to see every bit of those duels you had with Delacour and Diggory."

"I'll tell you all about it."

"Not quite what I meant. Have you ever heard of a Pensieve?"

"No. Should I have?"

"No reason in particular why you would. I just didn't know if you'd heard the term before. It would save a lot of explaining on my part. As it is, a Pensieve is basically a cauldron full of memories. You use a particular spell to extract a memory from your mind and deposit it in the Pensieve. Then you are able to enter that memory as a third-party observer. It's extremely helpful when trying to remember things or notice things you maybe didn't fully notice at the time."

"Do you have one?"

"No. They're quite difficult to make, and thus quite expensive. It's not the sort of thing you can just pick up in Diagon Alley. That's custom work. No real demand for them, because they cost so much. I think I'll make a few inquiries and see if I can't find a crafter."

"You want to see what happened that night?" Harry felt a little strange about the idea of Sirius seeing the Maze - or Azkaban.

"Only as much as you want to show me."

"Thank you."

"We'll get your duelling technique a bit more polished, and what would you say to learning how to Apparate?"

"Apparate?" Harry exclaimed.

"Apparate."

"But I'm underage."

"So you are."

"But it's against the law."

"Again, you are correct, Harry."

"But you could get in trouble!"

"Gee, I've never been in trouble with the law before," Sirius scoffed. "Besides, do you think I care about trouble from the Ministry? What are they going to do to me? Put me in Azkaban? I've already taught you to be an Animagus. I think I might be _looking_ for laws to break at this point."

"What's next, the Unforgiveables?"

Sirius stopped laughing. "No, but if you wanted to learn them, I'm sure you could find a willing teacher without too much effort. I doubt I could stop you."

"You mean Mister Malfoy."

"I do."

"Professor Moody already showed us all the spells. I know the incantations."

"Magic is more than the words, and you know it."

"He told us that too."

"Ah. Well I hope you're never in a situation where you need to use them. The Aurors were granted the authority to use them in the latter days of the last war, and some good did come of it, but only when wielded by a moral sort of wizard. The ones who enjoyed it often became more of a problem than they were solving."

"Me too, Sirius. Yes, I would like to learn to Apparate. Will you please teach me?"

"Absolutely."

The first week of house arrest wasn't all that bad. He and Sirius settled into a routine of breakfast, either homework or duelling or weight-lifting, lunch, Animagus practice, dinner, more Animagus practice, and bed.

Learning to Apparate was a nifty prospect, but Harry's first goal this summer was to attain Mastery of his animal form. He was now attempting to sleep while changed. A true Master could do that, holding the shape effortlessly. Harry still had to work at it, so he wasn't quite there yet. Hours and hours of nothing in particular to do lent themselves perfectly to simply being an animal. He explored all of Grimmauld Place from top to bottom in his alternate form. Padfoot often joined him, and they raced up and down the halls and stairways. It was fantastic fun, and Harry couldn't wait until he was strong enough to maintain his shape around Moony so they could all do this together.

Homework was always looking him plain in the face whenever Harry was in his room. He'd unpacked his trunk and placed his assignments prominently on his desk so he wouldn't leave them to the last minute. He hadn't looked at them properly, but what he'd peeked at had been scary stuff. The O.W.L. examinations were coming up in only eleven months. He'd seen some of the older students studying frantically for the tests. He firmly resolved that he wasn't going to find himself in that situation. He would not goof off. He would study every night. He had enough time to learn it all if he applied himself. It was only if he fell behind that he would get in trouble. Seeing his books reminded him of it every time, and with a sigh of resignation, Harry would sit down, open his Potions book, and begin reading. He might as well get a head start.

Harry had always enjoyed the experience of lifting weights. He'd first started with Elan Malfoy, his best mate Draco's older brother. Harry had gotten a set of weights for Christmas and had started lifting back at school with Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle. When he'd moved in with Sirius, they had turned one of the rooms on the first floor into a weight room. Harry and Sirius had lifted together as part of his Animagus training. The body needed to be strong.

Whenever they lifted weights, they always listened to very good music. Harry was partial to the hard sounds of Wand Smasher and the Weird Sisters. He actually knew the members of Wand Smasher personally. Sirius had appreciated Harry's taste, but the songs and artists he'd exposed Harry to from his own youth were very brilliant as well.

The duelling room on the second floor had been used a few times since the grand cleaning and restoration of Grimmauld Place. Now Harry and Sirius were in there nearly every day. The stage had been sunk into the floor, the lines and designs of the deck still visible in the wood. There was no stage in duels with Death Eaters. You had to be free to move around. Sirius had conjured a number of obstacles and such that could be redistributed around the room with a wave of the wand. All manner of different scenarios could thus be played out.

Harry had done quite well against two or three of his friends, but a fully trained wizard was a whole other matter all together. Sirius knew a lot about magic, and he was very quick with his casting. Several times he would slip non-verbal spells into the mix, just to test Harry. The first time it had happened, Harry had barely snapped a Protego Shield up in time to block the red bolt. It had _looked_ like a Disarming Charm, but he couldn't be sure. The wrong counter to a curse was worse than useless, so it was better to be safe. Sirius put Harry through his paces and found him not bad. It was a good place to start.

It had been one week exactly since the holiday had started. Shortly before lunch, Harry went down to the sitting room to have another go at making a stand for his trophy. Over the past year, his ability at Transfiguration had grown exponentially, a consequence of his Animagus training. He had nearly mastered the transformation, and that was the pinnacle of the discipline. If he could achieve this, there was nothing else to challenge him except old McGonagall's essays.

He started again with a bit of wood taken from the stump in the back yard. First he had to make more of what was already there. That was easily done. A wizard named Gamp had codified some of the laws of Elemental Transfiguration, and his Fourth Law stated that if a small amount of something was present, an unlimited amount could be reproduced from it. The wood grew in height to nearly reach his chest and was nearly as big around as the pillar he wanted.

A quick Rotation Charm set the wood spinning in place. Harry knew that Muggles had a machine called a lathe that would rotate pieces of wood or metal on an axis. Applying a blade to the spinning wood let one shape it. Harry didn't have a blade suitable for this task, but a Cutting Curse worked well enough. It smoothed the wood to a cylinder.

When it was perfect, Harry changed it to stone. This was the most difficult part. Harry grunted, and sweat rolled down his brow, but the result was perfect. The patterns of the wood could still be seen in the stone. It looked nothing like the plinth from the maze. Harry put the trophy on top of it and stepped back to admire his handiwork.

"Looking good, Harry," Sirius said from the door. "You're really something with Transfiguration."

"If only I could write better essays," Harry said.

"Hear, hear. At least you've got the practical part down. You're going to do a bang-up job on the OWL."

"I hope so. Come in. Let's sit." They did. "Speaking of the practical part of Transfiguration, tomorrow night's the full moon."

"It is."

"I'm getting kind of worried about Moony," Harry confessed. "Is he going to be back from his trip? How's he going to get through the full moon while out on the road?"

"Did somebody say Moony?" came a voice from the doorway. "Am I in time for lunch?"

"Moony!" Harry and Sirius shouted together. Sirius got up from his chair and embraced his friend.

"Did you just get back?"

"I made my report, but yes."

"How is the old crowd?"

"Bella's a bit surprised we contacted her. Her assignment was over almost two years ago. Mundungus Fletcher was reluctant, but he's in.

"What was Bella's assignment?"

"Apparently she was watching over Harry."

"At Privet Drive?" Harry interjected.

"Yes."

"Who was this again?"

"Arabella Figg."

"Missus _Figg_?" he yelped.

"You know her?"

"She used to babysit me sometimes. She's a witch?"

"No, she's a Squib."

Harry shuddered. "Dumbledore had one of his Order people watching me, and he let me rot there?"

"I'm sure Bella didn't know the worst of what went on," Remus hastened to say.

Harry didn't believe that for a second. Mrs. Figg had babysat for him on occasion. She knew what awful people the Dursleys were.

"She knew, and he knew too." Harry had blown up at Dumbledore several times before about the Dursleys. They had made him live in a cupboard under the stairs, only letting him have Dudley's second bedroom when the Hogwarts letters had started arriving, addressed in that fashion. Fear had motivated them to let Harry out, and that same fear had driven them to keep him locked up with iron bars on the window and deadbolts on the door.

"Tosser," Harry said, meaning Dumbledore. Though it still bothered him somewhat, he'd mostly let it all go. Mostly. He lived with Sirius now, and not even an act of God could make him leave. He'd hex anyone who tried.

Sirius did not disagree. He'd nearly lost his composure many times while learning of Harry's life at Number Four Privet Drive. It was impossible to defend Dumbledore's decision to place Harry with his Muggle relatives, even knowing as they did now about the blood protections and ancient magicks that had thus been made possible. Sirius never voiced agreement with Harry's invective, but he did nothing to discourage it.

"It was the best of a lot of bad options," Remus said. "Dumbledore erred on the side of safety, keeping you protected as best he could manage."

"What other options got beat out by ignorant Muggles?" Harry demanded. "Was there a troll interested in adopting me? Or perhaps a giant? Were there any inquiries from the vampires?"

"Harry, that's enough," Remus said. "We can't change it. The other options included letting you be raised in the wizarding world with all the pressure of your fame. How often have you told us about being singled out for being the Boy Who Lived?"

"Plenty. I hate it." He loathed being famous because he had lived while his parents had died. He'd give it all up to have them back.

Remus nodded. "Now imagine having to deal with that every day growing up. An extra ten years of all that rubbish wearing on you."

"I might be used to it by now."

Remus coughed politely. "You'd also have all sorts of mental issues as well. No, I may not approve of the Dursleys, but Dumbledore's decision to exile you I agree with completely."

"Is that why you didn't try to contact me?" Harry had never before asked Remus why they had first met when Harry was thirteen. It was a hurtful thing to say. Harry hadn't wanted to make trouble, but now he had his dander up and was feeling feckless.

Remus, for his part, took the anger in Harry's tone quite well. "I suppose it was only a matter of time before you asked. In fact, I _did_ try to contact you. All of my owls came back bearing my letters. Some sort of spell kept them from delivering the messages. There is a curse that can achieve this effect, and I'm certain that Dumbledore used it to keep you hidden."

"He _cursed_ me?"

"Don't take such a negative view of the word. Magic is magic and the name is all in the intent."

Harry knew that to be true. Heck, plenty of charms were used in duelling. The Banishing Charm could send an opponent crashing through a wall if done strongly enough. Magic was all a matter of symbolism and intent.

"I don't know what might have changed, but I wanted to let you know about me, that I had been friends with your parents. Maybe we could have been penfriends or something. I don't know, but I did try, Harry. Please believe that."

Harry's anger was gone, replaced with shame. Of course Moony had tried to find him. Of course he had. What was Harry thinking to be so stupid?

"I'm sorry, Moony," Harry said sincerely. "I'm being dumb."

"It's called being a teenager," Sirius observed slyly. "They take _everything_ the wrong way."

Harry flushed. "Yeah, I suppose. So about that lunch."

And everything was all right again.

An owl flew into the dining room while they were eating lunch. Harry recognized the pattern immediately. Shiva was the Patil family's owl.

"It's from Padma," he said, holding out his arm to the bird. It landed heavily, and Harry held up a piece of chicken. It gobbled the meat down in two swift bites and hooted happily. It stuck out its leg, and Harry untied the letter.

My darling Harry,

It's only been a week since holiday started, and I already miss you terribly. Are you safe? I've been so worried. I feel so cut off from everything here at home. Daddy put security charms on the Floo. Poor Shiva has been flying pretty much non-stop with all the letters I'm sending.

I wish I could speak with you. I wish I could kiss you. I wish I could hold you. Will we be able to see each other at all this summer, or are the adults going to keep us all locked up?

Yours,

Padma

"May I be excused? I want to write back."

"Absolutely," said Sirius. "Wouldn't want your girlfriend to think you've forgotten all about her. Does she miss you? Is her heart just breaking without you?"

"Sirius! C'mon, knock it off!"

Sirius and Remus chortled at his expense.

Harry ran up to his room and pulled out quill and parchment. He uncorked the green ink and nibbled on the end of his quill while he pondered what to write. Something moving, he decided. He hadn't written to Padma yet, and so he should be romantic.

Padma, my enchantress,

The hours have seemed like days since last I saw your beautiful face. I have only treasured memories and imperfect pictures to sustain me in my drought. I long to be with you again. Alas, all my eloquence has thusfar been insufficient to convince Sirius that letting me out of the house is a good idea.

I miss you too,

Harry

Shiva had helped himself to several more pieces of chicken off of the serving platter. He allowed Harry to tie the scroll of parchment to his leg and took off with a great flapping of wings.

After Remus had finished eating, he retired to one of the guest bedrooms to take a nap. He was very tired, having been on the road for two weeks now. He did not join them for dinner.

Harry went to the duelling room and transformed into his animal shape. He had set himself up a little obstacle course to help him learn the limits of his capabilities. After a number of hours of running, jumping, leaping, and scurrying, Harry was quite tired. He padded up the stairs to his bedroom and jumped up on the bed. He curled himself into a ball under the pillow, leaving only his sensitive nose sticking out. He went to sleep, but he woke in the wee hours, having changed back.

Harry swore and flashed back to his animal form. He had to be better. Tomorrow night was the full moon, and he'd been looking forward to spending his first night in the protected cell with Padfoot and Moony since April and the Easter holiday. He hadn't been strong enough to control his shape then. He'd made leaps and bounds of progress since, had worked at it for a year now, in total, but that wasn't far enough for Padfoot.

"Can I go with you tonight?" he asked at the breakfast table.

"Can you keep your form through the night?"

"Almost."

Sirius sighed. "Sorry, Harry. I'm not convinced you're ready."

"But Padfoot!"

"No. It's too dangerous. If you change back, Moony could bite you or scratch you, and then you'd be in a world of trouble. No. I won't take that chance with you."

"Please?"

"No. Please let it drop."

"Yes, Padfoot." Harry wasn't happy about this. He wanted to step into his father's shoes by keeping Moony company during his transformation.

As the hour approached, Harry looked anxiously at Moony, whose face was beginning to grimace with pain.

"It's time, Padfoot," Moony said with effort.

"Let's go."

Harry also stood and followed the two men across the kitchen to the special protected room Padfoot had established to contain his friend when the madness within was summoned out by the full moon. Padfoot glanced back.

"Harry, you're not coming in with us. Now is not the time to talk about it again."

"I know," Harry replied, "but I'm still going to be here. I'll be right outside the door. _In_ my other form, thank you very much. I'm going to prove I can hold it all night."

Despite himself, Sirius laughed. "As you wish, Harry."

The door clanged shut and the retaining bar dropped. Sirius spoke the words that activated the magical containment.

Harry concentrated on his inner animal and focused on the change. When he opened his eyes again, it was as- as- as whatever creature he was. They still hadn't figured it out precisely.

It wasn't that hard to hold on to his form. He barely needed to think about it. So long as he avoided thinking about his human body, he could stay this way. He had to constantly keep the image of the animal in his mind when he thought about how he would move.

Sirius was probably right that he wasn't quite ready yet. He had promised Harry that once true Mastery was achieved, holding the form took no effort at all. Harry still slipped once in awhile - once in a great while - but Sirius wouldn't accept anything less than perfection before he allowed Harry to join them.

The reason for that soon became apparent. The full moon rose, and Moony began to howl in pain as his body transformed not of its own volition. Harry soon smelled a new creature in the cell, and it was all he could do to keep from running away in a bid to preserve his own skin.

_No_, Harry told himself. _There's a magical shield and a thick door between us. I'm in no danger._ The panic receded, and he was able to stay by the door.

There was another growl now. Padfoot was talking to Moony. _Sit down and be quiet_, was the message.

_Run, chase, tear, kill. Kill._

_Not today._

After a few minutes, the blood-thirsty beast seemed to mellow a bit.

_Why no run? Why here in small space?_

_Protect._

_Protect._ The real Moony seemed to emerge a bit more. _Protect young. Cub._

_Puppy_, corrected Padfoot.

Harry sat up and chattered irritably at the both of them. _I am here! I am not a cub! I am not a puppy!_

The night passed in relative predictability, if not quiet. There were long periods of silence punctuated with moments of absolute horror as Moony would lose control of himself and shriek and howl like ten thousand devils. Having Padfoot and Harry there helped him keep his human mind somewhat, but he was still a werewolf. Then he would fight back the madness, push down the beast within, and whimper with pain. Then Moony would manage to control the pain and lay down again to await the next explosion of rage.

Harry's own control slipped a few times, to his deep chagrin. Though it was impossible to sleep when the noise was happening, Harry began to drift off during a particularly long lull. He snored once, and the alien noise in his ears startled him so much that he jumped awake and flashed back into his human form. Berating himself, Harry tried to instantly resume his animal form, and was frustrated to take tens of seconds to get it right. He was wide awake now, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He couldn't fall asleep. Not yet. A true master could sleep in animal shape.

Despite his resolve, as the adrenaline thinned from his bloodstream, his eyes began to grow heavy once more. Harry stood up and began to pace around the area in front of the door. Yes, if he kept moving, he would stay awake. Walking around aimlessly in circles like he was on patrol was very tiring, and he found himself slowing and eventually stopping. He curled up on the floor, determined to just take a small rest.

"Master Harry?"

Blearily, Harry came back to the world. He opened his eyes and choked off a scream as he beheld two gigantic eyes and a gnarled nose mere inches from his face.

"Kreacher!"

The old house elf's skin was a collection of wrinkles, and his huge bat ears had white hair growing out of them. He bowed low, nose to the floor.

"Master Harry, is you wanting breakfast?" Kreacher asked in his gurgling voice that sounded like frogs croaking.

Harry groaned and stretched his sore muscles. Sleeping on the stone floor of the kitchen had done no favours for his back.

"Yes, Kreacher, I would like breakfast. So would Sirius and Remus. Scrambled eggs, sausages, bacon, wheat toast with butter, wheat toast with huckleberry jam, orange juice, milk, and coffee." Sirius and Remus would need the coffee to face the day in any sort of good humour.

Kreacher bowed again, touching his crooked nose to the stone floor. "Kreacher hears and obeys," he said, and went to the cabinets where he began to wave his hands around, causing breakfast to prepare itself.

Harry got to his feet and sat at the table. Kreacher served the juice immediately, and Harry sipped at it thankfully.

With a few magic words and a loud clank, the protections of the full moon room were undone. Sirius and Remus walked out, looking haggard and weary. The full moon had set early in the morning, letting the wolf get some sleep, but he didn't change back until sunrise.

"Good morning," Harry said thickly.

The two men grunted and took their cups wordlessly. Remus drank his all at one go. Kreacher refilled the cup instantly and added cream and sugar without needing to ask. He had made Remus a lot of cups of coffee and knew exactly how he took it. It had also been quite some time since he'd tried to slip Remus any silver flatware.

"Good morning, Harry," Remus said, sipping at his fresh cup.

Sirius took a large swig and shook himself, as though he were shaking off water in his dog form.

"Ah, that's the ticket. Good morning, Harry. Sleep well?"

"I wasn't asleep," Harry fibbed, feeling the tips of his ears going a bit red.

"Then I must have heard someone else snoring," Sirius teased back. "Maybe you should have had some of this coffee last night."

"I'm getting better," Harry said.

"That you are. I'm very proud of you, you know. There's not many fourteen year old wizards who could achieve what you've done."

He'd said it before, but it still made Harry feel all warm inside when his godfather praised him like this. It was what a child ought to get from his guardian, what his parents would have given him had things gone differently. It was love.

"I'm not there yet," Harry demured.

"Near enough," Sirius said. "Almost a man. Fifteen in less than a month. Remus, we need to plan his birthday party. I want to do the swimming pool idea this year."

"That could be fun," Remus replied. "Have you figured out how to handle security?"

"No, not yet. I suppose I could Side-Along all the guests here."

"That would be quite exhausting. You'd Splinch in about a half-dozen trips."

"There is that." Sirius did not sound enthused at the prospect of Splinching himself.

"Surely you're not going to tell the Secret to all those guests either."

"No, certainly not." Sirius had put the Fidelius Charm on Grimmauld Place in the week since the return of Voldemort. It was the only magical protection the house had lacked, already being heavily booby-trapped from outside incursions and Unplottable to boot, and now it was their sanctuary. Only Sirius, Harry, and Remus knew the Secret.

"Then really the only way to have a party is outside the house. There's no place that's safe."

"We'll figure something out. Harry's fifteenth birthday should be a wild time. Remember James'?"

"How could I forget?" Remus asked. "Penelope Davis was hanging from the chandelier taking her shirt off when McGonagall walked in. She was not a very happy Head of House that night."

"How exactly did this Penelope get up on the light fixture?" Harry asked.

"James was drunk and thought he'd be funny. I remember we were all impressed at his control even while completely cocked."

"Maybe we could ask Dumbledore to use Hogwarts. It's certainly safe enough."

"Do you think he'll say yes?" Harry asked.

"It can't hurt to try. We'll ask when we go to the Order meeting. That's tomorrow night." Sirius had all but said that Harry would be going to the meeting as well. As Order Headquarters was currently Hogwarts, Harry would be safe there.

They hoped.


	2. The Secret Of Malfoy Manor

**Chapter Two - The Secret of Malfoy Manor**

It was the night of the first meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. Harry's parents had been a part of the Order during the last war. They had fought Voldemort when the Ministry had collapsed from within. They had thrice defied him. That was why they had been targeted for termination. Harry wanted to follow in their footsteps.

Harry's need to avenge his parents, which he'd had ever since Hagrid had told him about the true nature of their deaths, had built with every new bit of knowledge he acquired. With Voldemort back to life, that directionless anger had found a focus point.

It helped to talk about it. Sirius always listened whenever Harry talked about how much he wanted to fight. He wanted to be useful in whatever way he could. Sirius understood that, which was why he'd allowed Harry to go to the meeting. Harry couldn't have been more thankful.

Sirius didn't treat him like a kid. Harry respected Sirius' authority, skill, and wisdom, and Sirius returned that by speaking with Harry maturely, recognizing his cognizance. They didn't always agree. Harry was a headstrong teenager, and Sirius was the protective guardian. There were natural conflicts. Most of the time, Harry was so thankful to have a real home that he tried to behave.

In Harry's opinion, it was not near soon enough for the first meeting. Nearly a month had passed since Voldemort had announced his return by conquering Azkaban. They should have been moving much faster. The Ministry was acting. They had all sorts of initiatives going. What had this grandiose Order accomplished?

Harry had been practically crawling out of his skin with anticipation for a week, ever since Sirius had allowed him to go. The day of the meeting finally arrived, and the hours passed agonizingly slow. He suffered silently through lunch, spent the afternoon in his Animagus form, wolfed down his dinner, and hurried up to his room to grab his travelling cloak.

Sirius and Remus took their leisurely time to finish dinner. Harry waited in the drawing room in front of the fireplace. The Triwizard Cup glimmered in the firelight, the red reflections mingling with the blue eminations. Time ticked slowly by. Then Harry heard voices coming up the way.

Remus was telling a joke. "Then the vampire said, 'I'll have him when he's done having a Whirling Blood Dancer.'"

Sirius cracked up laughing. "So what'd the bartender say to that?"

"He quoted them a price for a room."

"You _were_ in a rough part of town."

"I saw two more fights even _after_ that. Fortunately Dung showed up at that point. Never agree to let him set the meeting. Trust me."

"Who's Dung?" Harry asked

"Mundungus Fletcher," Remus replied. "He's a rather unpleasant chap. Sort of a con man. Sells a lot of things that aren't properly his, things he claims he found, recovered, or scavenged. Deals with a lot of unsavory characters in his line of work, and he's a positive sink of all sorts of interesting little bits of information."

"What's he doing in the Order?" The Order was supposed to be made up of people like James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, and Moody. This man Dung sounded like a proper criminal.

"He's true to Dumbledore," Remus said with a shrug, "and he's useful."

Harry thought that sounded rather Slytherin.

Sirius held out the box of Floo powder. "It's time to go, Harry."

"Finally!"

Most of Hogwarts was restricted from the external Floo network, but the Headmaster's office was one of the access points. Remus went first, then Harry, and Sirius last.

The place never ceased to amaze Harry, who had been in here only a handful of times. The room was circular and very large. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. Sitting on a shelf behind the desk was a shabby, tattered wizard's hat - the Sorting Hat. On a golden perch behind the door sat Fawkes the phoenix with brilliant scarlet feathers and beautiful golden plumage, a gold beak and gold talons.

Professor Dumbledore was waiting for them, seated at his great, big, claw-footed desk with Professor Snape, himself sitting in one of the guest chairs. They were chatting quietly.

"Sirius, Remus, welcome." His eyes lighted on Harry for a moment. "Harry, it is good to see you."

"Hello, Professor. Good evening," Harry said pleasantly. If he was going to be allowed to join the Order, he needed to be mature.

"Sirius, could you not find a babysitter?" Dumbledore joked lightly. "Or perhaps trust Harry to remain at home alone?"

"Harry wants to join the Order. He wants to fight. He asked to come, and I didn't think I should deny him the chance to help strike back at the one who made him an orphan. Do you?"

"Do you think it wise, Sirius? War is a most messy business."

"He's already involved, whether you want him to be or not, Albus," Sirius replied, his voice starting to get louder, "or have you already forgotten about what happened during the Third Task?"

"I have not."

"Voldemort has involved him in this."

"We should seek to minimize that, not throw all caution to the wind and charge headlong forward," Professor Snape interjected in a biting tone.

"Was that a crack against me or Gryffindor?"

"Perhaps both." Snape had just a trace of a smirk on his face.

"Ecumenical as always, Severus," Remus observed.

"Lupin," Snape said by way of greeting.

"It is good to see you still hale and hearty."

"As much as he ever gets, anyway," Sirius added.

"Sirius!" Harry objected.

"Well he is very pale, isn't he? Look at him!"

Thankfully the bickering was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Arrive at your leisure," Dumbledore called out.

The door opened, and Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy entered. She looked beautiful, as she always did, but her face was thinner. It was hard to fight in a cocktail gown, so she had set aside her fine dresses for more appropriate garb. Her ordinary robes were Slytherin green and silver. Mr. Malfoy looked terrible. His eyes were shadowed, and he had also lost weight. He had been going out into the world to politick, and he had needed to stay on the move. His fine black robes seemed a little sturdier than he normally wore.

The Malfoys had been living at Hogwarts since the fall of Azkaban. Mr. Malfoy had cast the Fidelius Charm over Malfoy Manor. The spell captured the knowledge of where Malfoy Manor could be found and contained it in the soul of the Secret Keeper. He had told Harry the Secret right before Side-Along Apparating him away from Azkaban. Now he was the only one aside from the Malfoy family who knew the location, but Mr. Malfoy shared a connection to Voldemort through the Dark Mark. Voldemort used it to summon the Death Eaters. Who was to say he couldn't do more? If he could penetrate the Secret, the Malfoy family would die.

"Ah, you're here," Dumbledore said cheerily. He gestured to the candy dish on the corner of the desk. "May I offer you a lemon drop?"

"Yes, thank you, Albus," Mr. Malfoy said. He scooped up one of the hard yellow candies and popped it in his mouth. "I haven't had a sweet in weeks."

"Let's begin. Severus?"

Harry blinked. Where was the rest of the Order?

Professor Snape said, "I have convinced the Dark Lord that I am his faithful servant. He believes I am here to spy upon you and the Order, deceiving you into thinking I am spying on him."

"A complicated deception," Sirius noted.

"Quite. It took some time, but he has accepted my story for now. Doubtless he will soon come up with a way for me to prove myself. Probably some ritual at Samhain. He does so enjoy the act of sacrifice. I will participate, of course. There is no other who can get so close to him."

Snape's voice was neutral, but Harry heard the disgust and loathing he had for himself that he had to dirty his hands with the blood of innocents. It was necessary, so damned necessary, but the deeds of war could mark the victor just as the loser.

"I am sorry that you must make this sacrifice, Severus. I wish it were otherwise."

"As do I, Albus, but we do what we must."

"Some do more. Thank you." Dumbledore turned to Mr. Malfoy. "Severus, Sirius, and I have determined that the Fidelius Charm you cast is fatally flawed, Lucius. You have a Secret to Keep, but the Dark Mark upon your arm betrays you. Your presence in Malfoy Manor renders the protections insubstantial."

"When I am not there?" Mr. Malfoy asked intently.

"So far as we can determine, the house should be inviolate."

Mr. Malfoy sighed deeply. "Then for the sake of my family, I can never go home."

"I can offer you the shelter of Hogwarts only until the students return. Then there would be far too many risks associated. Voldemort does not need any more incentives to attack the school."

"Sirius," Harry whispered. His mind was working very fast now. A crazy plan was taking shape in his mind, but he'd have to talk really quickly in order to carry it off. "If Mister Malfoy needs a place to stay, why don't we offer it to him?"

"What, rent him a flat?"

"What about Grimmauld Place?"

"Let Lucius Malfoy under my roof?" Sirius sounded so scandalized, Harry might have asked him to whip the Queen naked through the streets of London.

"Sirius!" Harry let his disapproval show. "He's in this situation because he saved me from Voldemort. A little sympathy, please?"

Sirius chewed on his lip for a moment. "I suppose it couldn't hurt that much."

An owl flew in the window of Dumbledore's office and dropped a note on his desk. Dumbledore scanned the contents briefly. He picked up a quill and penned a neat reply.

"Excuse me, Lucius," Dumbledore said when Mr. Malfoy paused for breath. "We will have to set aside our business in a moment. Mister Filch has caught a student trying to enter the gates. This is most unusual, for even the most studious Ravenclaw and ambitious Slytherin enjoys their summer holidays."

"Who is this student, and how can it be more important than me protecting my life? Could I not cut off my arm and the Mark with it?"

Snape replied. "It would only manifest elsewhere. It is not a mark on the body so much as on the soul."

Dumbledore shook his head. "We will pause. Our guest is Theodore Nott."

Harry jumped in his skin. Professor Snape sat up straight in his chair. Slytherin student and Head of House glanced at each other.

"Theo?" Harry asked. "What was he doing trying to break into Hogwarts?"

"Did he say what he wanted?" Snape inquired intensely.

"Only that he needed to speak with me. He would say no more. Mister Filch is bringing him up. Please continue, Lucius."

"If my manor is a safe place, then perhaps it would be of some use to you, Dumbledore. As you say, I should not remain here past the summer. The Order can hardly operate out of a school either. As a governor, I cannot accept undue risk to the children."

"That is most considerate of you, Lucius," Dumbledore said politely. "Your offer is most generous. Thank you. I know how much your home means to you."

"I will give all that I have in order that my blood may live without fear," Mr. Malfoy declared, and Harry saw the memory of pain in his eyes.

"Yes, for blood," Dumbledore murmured, "but it still leaves us with the question of what to do with you. You cannot go home without unlocking the Secret. I cannot let you stay for long. You will not survive long on your own."

Harry jabbed Sirius in the side. Sirius grunted. Both Dumbledore and Mr. Malfoy glanced in his direction.

"Yes, Sirius?" Dumbledore inquired, his blue eyes twinkling slightly.

"Umm," Sirius stalled, looking sideways at Harry. "Well, I suppose there's nothing else for it. The House of Black has harboured more than its fair share of Dark souls. Lucius, if you will accept my charity, I'll let you stay with me."

Mr. Malfoy clearly did not like the word charity, as a pained expression crossed his face. It vanished quickly enough, but Harry caught it.

"Cousin, now it is _you_ who is being most generous. Thank you. I accept your hospitality."

"Well then," Dumbledore said, sounding quite pleased. "That's all settled. Excellent."

Remus and Professor Snape were both staring at Sirius in disbelief. Harry smirked. One way or another, he _would_ get these adults to get along.

"Now, what other business do we have?"

"Can you tell us what's going on with the Ministry?" Sirius asked.

"Minister Fudge has taken a hard line," Mr. Malfoy replied. "I had quite a time convincing the snivelling little man of the need to stand up and fight, but he eventually saw reason when I told him of the Dark Lord's plans for him personally. I think it was the idea of being hung with his own entrails that did him in."

"Lucius, must you?" Mrs. Malfoy asked, as she turned a slight shade of green.

"I must, my love." He paused for a moment and just gazed lovingly at her. Then he sighed and continued, "The Aurors are on full alert, with training of the current class of recruits accelerated. We anticipate a surge of new recruits, so there must be more funds allocated to facilities and material. They intend to establish a pre-training crash course in the required disciplines, with the option to retake the NEWTs, to increase the pool of eligible wizards. The numbers associated these needs made Fudge nearly faint more times than my descriptions of the messy death the Dark Lord has in store for him."

"I'm sure," Dumbledore said, trying not to smile and failing. "Politicians do so hate to spend money."

"Fudge certainly treats every Knut as his own when it comes time to discuss the budget."

"The governors are the same way," Dumbledore said blandly. "Oh, the rousing shouting matches I've had with them."

Mr. Malfoy didn't look amused. "It is pointless to take cheap shots, Dumbledore. I was generally always in favour of spending money, just not in the areas you thought it should be spent. More teachers, better teachers, other subjects! You wanted to let Hagrid bring in dragons, and-"

"Terribly misunderstood creatures, dragons," Dumbledore interjected.

Mr. Malfoy took a deep breath and composed himself.

"I have spoken to many members of the Wizengamot in the past few weeks as well. Most are afraid, but enough are willing to fight who threatened to shame the rest that we are assured of public support for the Ministry and the new policies. The curfew isn't popular, but it's accepted as necessary. There is a lot of effort being put into developing and publishing safety protocols. Some of it is useful, most of it is just feel-good drivel. The only way to truly be safe is the Fidelius Charm. Unfortunately it's highly advanced magic that not everyone can cast. I think there will a substantial profit to be made for any freelance Charmer who has that spell in his catalogue.

"Additionally, acting on Severus' advice, I have made efforts to restrict the sale of certain potions ingredients that can be used irresponsibly. The list he gave me was quite lengthy."

"What sort of potions, Severus?" asked Dumbledore.

"There are far too many to discuss now," Snape answered. "Suffice to say, I know many of the potions the Dark Lord will require me to make, and I anticipate many others. Artificial shortages of crucial ingredients will hinder his plans. It is already quite difficult to find all the components for Polyjuice Potion, for instance. We _must_ restrict the ability of the Dark Lord to make this potion, or he will wreck havoc with it."

"You're fighting Voldemort with economics?" Sirius asked, sounding astonished.

"We fight him on all levels."

There was a knock on the door. "Cross the threshold," Dumbledore called out.

The door opened, and Mister Filch dragged Theo into the office. Harry's smartest friend looked horrible. His skin was pale, his eyes were dark and baggy, and he was thinner than Harry had ever seen him. He'd always been a bit weedy, but now he seemed a mere shade of his former self.

"This is him, Headmaster," Filch said in his gravelly voice. "This is the one I caught. Should I take him down to the dungeons for a good hanging up by his thumbs? He'll talk, oh yes."

"I do not think that we shall require such drastic means, Mister Filch. Thank you."

Filch glowered at Theo once more before turning and leaving, the dustmop that was Mrs. Norris hot on his heels.

"Welcome, Theodore. I understand you wanted to speak to me."

Theo looked around at all the people. He'd obviously expected to meet privately with Dumbledore. He saw Professor Snape.

"Professor."

"Mister Nott. I heard of your arrival and set aside my brewing. What prompts one of my students to break into school?"

Theo glanced around the room again. Would he speak in front of the Malfoys? Remus and Sirius he'd been friendly enough with, but that was before the return of Voldemort.

"Well, I was going to tell Harry eventually anyway," Theo said with resignation plain in his voice. "Fine. I've come seeking sanctuary. I don't want to be a Death Eater."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He'd feared so very much that Theo would side with his father and bow to Voldemort. Harry had tried to persuade Theo before school let out, but the question had ultimately been left unanswered. Now Theo had made a decision, and it was the right one. Thank Merlin!

"This is indeed most fortuitous news," Dumbledore said seriously, stroking his long beard, "but did it really require breaking into the castle? An owl could have communicated your intentions much more easily."

"Probably, but I needed to come immediately. It wasn't safe, you understand."

"How so?"

Theo took another long breath. "As I'm sure you know, my father was one of the Dark Lord's most valued servants. He prizes knowledge, and so my father's scholarly tendencies made him a great resource. It was that way in the last war and it looked to be the same in this war."

"You sound disappointed in him," Dumbledore said kindly.

"He made his choice," Theo said heatedly. "It was his right. He made the choice for me too. The first night back home, he was already plotting his uses for me. He wanted to use my friendship with Harry. I was supposed to get Harry to visit, and then we were going to ambush him."

Sirius inhaled sharply. Harry looked over and met Sirius' eyes. Would they have fallen for it? Would Harry have wanted to believe in Theo so much that he would have walked into a trap? He shuddered.

"I didn't want to do that. Harry's not a bad sort, and lots of exciting stuff does tend to happen around him, which is fun. I tried to argue with him, like we always argued about everything. Discussion, debate, argument! That was how he raised me! To think! Consider all the angles before acting!"

Theo's voice grew more passionate as he spoke, and then his intensity dropped to nothing. His next words were barely a whisper.

"This time it was different. He turned his wand on me."

Theo began to shake, both in body and voice. "I've never felt anything so awful. My own father! How could he? How could he? When he took the curse off, I lay there on the floor. I couldn't lift my head out of this pool of my own blood and puke. I think I pissed myself too. Of course I promised that I would obey without question. I got away from him and cleaned myself up."

Harry was gripped by the awful story. He hung on Theo's every agonizing word. How could a man torture his own son, his own blood? Once again, the shadow of the Dursleys rose up in his mind. Aunt Petunia had fully participated in Harry's abuse, despite their shared blood. He had no doubts they would have Crucio'd him in a heartbeat if they could.

"Everything was fine later that night for dinner. He never even tasted the nightshade in his wine." Theo's voice was hollow and dispassionate. "He didn't take very long to die. He was an old man anyway. Weak. He looked so much smaller with his eyes closed."

"By all that's holy," Remus murmured. "The boy poisoned his own father!"

"Patricide!" Mr. Malfoy gasped.

"My dear boy," Dumbledore said gently.

"We were supposed to be a team," Theo cried, hot tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. "Just the two of us! Us against the world! How could he turn on me like that? How could he put that curse on me? Why?"

Theo began to sob, deep choking cries of pain and remembered agony. He had nobody to turn to, nobody to comfort him. Harry couldn't stand it anymore and went to his side. He placed a tentative hand on Theo's shaking shoulder and squeezed silently.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so sorry. I was going to do it. I was going to help capture you for the Dark Lord."

"I understand," Harry said, and he did understand. The bonds between father and son may have been a mystery to Harry once upon a time, but he was slowly learning. Sirius was the closest thing Harry had to a father of his own, and he readily listened to any plan his godfather came up with simply because it came from Sirius.

"I've got nowhere to go," Theo continued brokenly. "I've been trying to figure out what to do ever since that night, but I don't know what to do. Then just now, Death Eaters tripped the alarm spells. I didn't wait to chat with them. I got to the Floo and went to Hogsmeade, then I came here."

"You should go to the hospital wing," Remus advised, sounding much like he had in the classroom. "The after-effects of Cruciatus are plain to see. You need medical attention."

"Yes, Professor," Theo said, still sounding dazed.

"Madam Pomfrey will not ask any questions," Dumbledore said.

"She never does," Remus replied. "Thank Merlin for her skill."

"Severus-"

Professor Snape put an arm around Theo's trembling shoulders and guided him from the office.

The silence was deafening. Harry wanted to go with Theo, but for reasons he didn't quite process, he stayed behind. He would go later after Madam Pomfrey had done her magic. She wouldn't let him see Theo until that was over anyway at the _very_ least.

So Harry stayed. He looked up at Remus. "Will he be okay?"

Remus nodded slowly. "Yes, even delayed treatment is better than none. In time, he would have recovered on his own. It is a painful route."

"I never thought the boy capable of this," Sirius said sadly. "I rather like Theo. He helped me get my mother off the wall. He's a good lad."

"Patricide," Mr. Malfoy said again, still seeming stunned. "By Merlin the Time Traveller, what is this world coming to?"

"A very sad day," Dumbledore replied, shaking his head. "I fear it may not be the last horrible act we see in this war."

"There were many in the last," Remus said, his voice far away. "I don't think he's changed his ways. They were working quite well for him last time until-"

His eyes slid to Harry. "Until" was Lily sacrificing herself for her infant son, her love protecting him from the terrible hatred of the Killing Curse.

"Until we learned the one weakness he has," Dumbledore said. "Love is anathema to him, and it can harm him. Were we able to fashion love into a weapon, we might slay him, but such is not love's way. Love protects."

"If it is not too indelicate," Mr. Malfoy said, "may I suggest that we discuss how Timothy Nott's death affects any strategy? Stomach-turning as it may be, the boy has given us a great boon. Nott was a sink of knowledge."

"You sick bastard," Sirius croaked. "How can you think strategy when a child has just had to become a killer?"

"I weep for young Theodore, who has lost his innocence too soon; however, I keep control of myself, cousin. Though I also have the urge to comfort him, my comforts are more long-term. Rather than hug the boy, I will find him shelter and refuge. He is here at Hogwarts, and all his physical needs are met. He has two friends in the castle, and his emotional needs are met. I will convey my feelings to Theodore in a private setting and in a manner suiting the gravity of his deeds. There will come a time when he will need someone to tell him that they understand and that it was the right thing to do. When that time comes, I will be there for him."

"The right thing!" Sirius barked.

"Yes, the right thing! I would expect no less from my sons were I to put that curse on them, and I would deserve it! One does not treat blood this way," Mr. Malfoy said, as though stating the perfectly obvious.

"But Muggles, that's perfectly fine," Sirius said blandly.

"Sirius!" Harry interjected.

"I plan how to react to changing situations," Mr. Malfoy continued, ignoring Sirius' crack about Muggles. "Nott's death is something that could change the balance of Light and Dark. It will certainly create a struggle amongst the Death Eaters. Being the Dark Lord's scholar had all sorts of perks, the least of which is that underlings listened when he spoke, because the Dark Lord often listened too. If one irritated the scholar, he might mention that one had interrupted a critical experiment or ruined a valuable text. It happened several times, and the Dark Lord flew into a rage whenever it happened. The results were fairly graphic. The scholar's demise has profound implications."

"Lucius is right," Mrs. Malfoy contributed. "Nott had no apprentice to speak of, so whomever can convince the Dark Lord that he is the most worthy scholar will be in a most favourable position."

"You- you- you Slytherins!" Sirius sputtered. "You cold-blooded snakes!"

Harry wanted to get upset. He hadn't shown the immediate compassion and gone with Theo, choosing to stay and hear more of the meeting. Did that make him more Slytherin?

"Sirius, calm down," Remus advised, putting one hand on his shoulder. "They've always been practical bastards. You know that."

"But this-"

"You're not going to change them. It's just how they are."

Mr. Malfoy looked at Remus. "Likewise we cannot seem to make you Gryffindors understand that sometimes discretion is the better part of valour. We all have things we should like to change about others."

Sirius jumped to his friend's defence. "Ice water is too hot to run in your veins, Lucius. It's a wonder you don't hibernate."

"It's amazing your hot temper hasn't gotten you killed yet," Mr. Malfoy sneered. "We cannot afford to lose focus. How can we best exploit Nott's death?"

"Could we influence who his replacement will be?" Remus asked Dumbledore.

"Unlikely. Severus still has yet to prove his worth to Voldemort. He is accepted back, but he has yet be tested. Until Voldemort knows his loyalty is certain, he has no sway over him."

"That is unfortunate," Remus said, stating the obvious. "Feeding him false knowledge might be useful. He'd probably see through it. Information, however, we must take full advantage of."

"Yes. Well, I don't think there's anything else we can accomplish here tonight. May I offer anyone a nightcap?"

Everyone politely declined.

The meeting of the Order, such as it was, was over.

Mr. Malfoy stood up and held out a hand to Mrs. Malfoy. She took it and rose gracefully. They looked into each others' eyes, husband and wife. The tightness around his eyes relaxed slightly. Her pursed lips curled into a small but hopeful smile.

"Let us go, Lucius," she said softly. "You must see your sons, and I would say my farewells in private."

He nodded. "Cousin, I will meet you at the castle gate. Oh, by the way-" he pulled his wand and cast a Deafening Spell on all of the portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses. "Can't have them overhearing this. Malfoy Manor may be found at One, High Street, Wilton."

"Of course it is," Sirius replied. His tone was neutral. He kept his eyes slightly elevated, looking directly at nobody. "Take your time."

The Malfoys left, shutting the door behind them. It was Dumbledore, Sirius, Remus, and Harry in the headmaster's office.

"Albus?"

"Yes, Sirius?"

"As you know, Harry's birthday is at the end of the month."

"I am aware."

"A young man doesn't turn fifteen every day."

"I shall interpret that figuratively and not literally."

"But the question arises of how to celebrate properly. Grimmauld Place is locked up moreso than Gringotts, and Malfoy Manor the same way."

"With good cause," Dumbledore noted. "It is a very dangerous world."

"Any public gathering is wrought with security concerns."

"Naturally. What are you driving at, Sirius?"

"I want you to open the school gates for a party. All of the parents will feel safe bringing their children here. There's little need for complicated protective spells to be set up because they're already in place."

"A party?"

"Indubitably. What better thing than a party to lift morale? Show people we're not going to let a pesky Dark Lord interfere with living our lives. What do you say?"

"Sirius, surely you must be pulling my leg. If I grant your request, do you know how many hundreds of solicitations I will receive? I am already asked to host many functions here at Hogwarts. My answer must be no."

"These are not normal times, Albus. People still want to gather together, but they also want to be assured of safety. If you can provide it-"

"I am not a slave to the wants of others," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "Let me put it to you another way. In this specific case, you're going to be inviting Harry's friends from Slytherin, correct?"

"Yes."

"There is nothing wrong with that. Friends are wonderful gifts from the Creator of All Things, but how many of those children have parents who answered the call of their master?" Dumbledore asked. "A great many, I am afraid. You would have me open the school to them without knowing where they stand? Such a risk, Sirius. No, I cannot countenance such action."

Sirius frowned, but he did not reply. "Fine. We'll figure something else out." He stood up. "Be in touch."

"I will. Be well, Sirius, Remus, Harry."

"Bye, sir."

"Well, scratch that idea," Sirius rued as they walked down the spiral staircase and through the hallways. "Time for Plan S."

"What's Plan S?" Harry asked.

"I know Plan G is to ask Gringotts," Remus said, "but I'm not aware of Plan S."

"Where did we used to conceal all manner of illicit activity?" Sirius said.

"The Shrieking Shack," Remus replied.

"Precisely."

"But Dumbledore just told us he won't open the gates."

"Is the Shack protected by anti-Apparition Charms?" Sirius sounded like he knew the answer already.

"No. How many people do you think you could Side-Along?"

"Probably no more than half a dozen."

"Myself as well. We'd have to keep the guest list short. I think if we asked Lucius and Narcissa, we could easily bring all of Harry's guests inside. We wouldn't have to tell anyone where they were going."

"Sounds like a good plan," Sirius said. "Harry, think of who you want to invite. No more than a dozen."

"Okay, Sirius. I want to see Theo before we go."

"Of course. We'll meet you at the gate."

Harry headed to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was bustling about. She was a squat little witch who brooked no nonsense in her ward. Harry always spoke politely to her, because she and she alone determined when he was allowed to cease being her guest.

"Ah, hello, Mister Potter. A pleasure to see you."

"You as well, Madam. How is he?"

"He'll recover. You can see him if you want. Keep things quiet, or so help me-"

"Yes, Madam!" Harry said hastily.

Theo was sleeping. It could not have been a natural sleep, for he was far too restful. Professor Snape sat in a chair by his bed, keeping vigil.

"Hello, sir."

"Mister Potter."

"Madam says he's going to be okay."

"He should have sought treatment sooner. He suffered needlessly."

Harry didn't know how to reply to that. "I'm sure he wasn't thinking clearly."

"Certainly not. Nor will he for a very long time."

Theo had poisoned his own father. Harry could barely think the words in his head. He couldn't imagine where Theo's mind was right now. He ached for his friend, and he keenly felt his own sense of helplessness. How could he help his friend get through this?

"What he did was right," Professor Snape said, as if reading his mind. "It is the paramount right of the individual to defend oneself from assault. Do not ask him about it. Do not judge him. Let him speak when he is ready to speak. Be near him and be nice to him. Let him know without words that you are there for him. When he is ready, he will share."

"Yes, sir." There was nothing else to say.

Harry sat there quietly, watching Theo, watching Professor Snape. Theo lay still in the hospital bed, the faint rising and falling of his chest the only indicator that he was still amongst the living. Snape sat silently as well. He had inexplicably drawn his hood up to conceal his face. He held his hands folded in front of him, knuckles resting on his chin.

Time ticked by. Then there was a noise in the entrance to the hospital wing. The door opened to admit Draco.

"Blimey, look at him," Draco marvelled, his eyes on Theo. "'Lo, Harry. 'Lo, Professor."

"Hi, Draco. Your dad told you?"

"Yeah, he did. I can't believe it."

"Me either. His own dad."

"That will be enough, you two," Professor Snape said disdainfully. "As I told Mister Potter, I will now tell you, Mister Malfoy. Mister Nott's action is fully justified. I will not hear any criticism of it."

"Oh no, sir," Draco hastily said. "I meant I couldn't believe his own dad put that spell on him."

"It could just as easily have been you, Mister Malfoy."

"Sir?"

"Had your father chosen differently, it might have been you ordered to lure Mister Potter into a trap. How would you have chosen? What might your father have done to insure your obedience?"

Draco thought about that for a moment. He made no reply.

"Theodore has a great many issues to work through. If you are his friends, you will support him and have patience with him. Look out for him. He will speak when he is ready, and pressuring him prematurely will be counter-productive."

"Sir, I promise I won't try to get him to talk. I wouldn't even know where to start."

"The right words will come when they are needed. When the time is right."

Harry patted Theo's shoulder encouragingly. "If your dad is done saying goodbye, then I should go meet them all at the gate."

"Yeah. Sorry we can't visit longer. I've been going out of my head around here. There's only so much exploring one can do on one's own. Which reminds me, I found this really nifty room I want to show you."

"Next time."

"Next time," Draco agreed.

"Bye. Bye, Professor."

"Good-bye, Mister Potter."

"Bye, Harry."

Harry left the hospital wing, saying farewell to Madam Pomfrey on his way out. It was a short jaunt from there to the front gate of the castle where Sirius, Remus, and Mr. Malfoy were waiting.

"Ah, Harry," said Sirius. "Good. How's Theo?"

"He's resting comfortably."

"Good, good. We'll come again when he's feeling better. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

The four wizards made their way out from the castle gate and down the path to the entrance to the grounds. The iron gates swung open at their approach.

"Lucius?"

"Yes, cousin?"

Sirius leaned in to whisper in Mr. Malfoy's ear. It was the Secret.

"Of course it is," Mr. Malfoy replied. "Thank you, cousin."

Harry took Sirius' arm as the three men Apparated back to Grimmauld Place. With three slight '_pop_'s, four people suddenly appeared in the drawing room. The Black family tree decorated the wall, on a tapestry affixed there with a Permanent Sticking Charm.

"Well, here we are," Sirius said blandly. "I'll call Kreacher to make up your room, Lucius. Is the basement all right?"

Mr. Malfoy twitched slightly. "Cousin, please, spare me your attempts at humour. You are my host. I am defenceless before you. Should you choose to offer me quarters in the basement, I will thank you for your generosity, but please do not ask me to laugh when the joke is at my expense."

Sirius smirked. "You continue to surprise me, Lucius. You actually _do_ know how to be humble."

"Grateful, Cousin. Gracefully grateful. A gentleman gives gratitude as it is warranted."

"Well, not the dungeons, perhaps," Sirius said speculatively. He began to stroke his chin with his index finger. "I suppose you can have one of the bedrooms on the third floor. There's an empty one next to the loo with a ghoul in it."

"A ghoul?" Mr. Malfoy exclaimed.

"Sirius!" Harry protested. "Stop it! We got rid of the ghoul months ago, Mister Malfoy."

"I was just having a little fun, Harry. Wasn't it funny, Lucius?"

"Hysterical."

"If he thought about it for a second, he'd remember that there's a Ministry Task Force that deals with unwanted ghouls."

"So there is."

"Plus, I'm sure he's a very capable wizard, more than able to handle one pesky ghoul."

"Quite. May we continue, please?"

"Everyone's a critic," Sirius breathed. "Kreacher!"

With a bang, the wrinkle-headed house elf appeared in the sitting room. He bowed low to touch his nose to the carpet.

"Master called? How may Kreacher serve?"

With a pained expression, Sirius said, "Kreacher, please make up one of the guest rooms on the third floor for our house guest. Lucius will be staying with us until further notice."

Without even acknowledging Mr. Malfoy, Kreacher disappeared with a bang.

"Well, until that's ready, would anyone like to play cards?" Sirius asked.

"Cousin, I have something I wish to discuss with you."

"I hate it when you say that. I always think it's going to be something awful."

"Far from awful, Cousin. It concerns protecting our boys from danger."

"I'm listening."

"Do you not think it would be the height of precaution and foresight if they knew how to Apparate?"

"Underage Apparition and Apparating without a license are both criminal offences, Lucius."

"As is failure to register with the Animagus Board," Lucius said pleasantly. "You yourself failed to register for a great many years."

"That's different."

"I fail to see the difference. In fact, I would more readily forgive Harry and Draco breaking the law in this instance than you in your situation. That was to help a friend; this may mean their lives."

"There's no need to get dramatic, Lucius."

"Oh, if that isn't the pot calling the kettle black."

"The Kettleblacks died in the dragonpox epidemic of 1918."

Mr. Malfoy rolled his eyes and a slight groan escaped him. "Why are you making this difficult?"

"Because I can, Lucius. I enjoy giving you a hard time. You may have noticed this by now."

"I have. Believe me, I have. My point is that any unexpected weapons we can give the boys now will help improve their chances of survival. You must see the truth of this."

"Oh, I do. I think it's a fantastic idea, myself. I'd already thought about giving Harry lessons."

"Then we are in agreement."

"Looks like it. Which of us shall it be?"

"Both, perhaps? We shall certainly have a lot of time here together."

Sirius' face blanched.

They played cards for several minutes until Kreacher returned to announce that the guest bedroom had been made up. Mr. Malfoy stood, bowed, said good night, and departed for the third floor.

Harry, Sirius, and Remus remained.

"Moony, old friend? Would you mind giving Harry and I a few minutes alone?"

"No, not at all. Actually, I should head home. Big day tomorrow."

"Good night, Moony," Harry said.

"Good night, old friend."

Moony waved and headed for the door. When he had left, Harry looked at Padfoot. "What's up?"

"I wanted to talk about what we learned tonight. With Theo, I mean. It's pretty shocking news."

"Yeah," Harry said. "I can barely believe it. His dad put the Cruciatus on him. His own dad."

"An act of great hatred against a mere boy," Sirius said bitterly. "Such evil. The Death Eaters have learned well from their master. Voldemort does not hesitate to curse his followers."

"I know." Harry had seen it firsthand that awful night. "Poor Theo. I can't imagine being in that kind of bind. His dad was the one person he thought would be with him. He must have felt so alone. To even conceive of poisoning his dad - and then actually doing it! - he must have been out of his mind with pain, fear, and desperation."

"People can do some funny things when you push them far enough."

"I guess so. I want to help him, but I'm not really sure how. I don't know what I can do."

"Just be there for him. Don't pressure him to open up. Be supportive, and he will eventually speak about it. He'll need his friends now more than ever."

"We'll be there."

"I know you will, Harry, and I'm behind you a hundred percent. If you want to offer him a place to come for school holidays, he can come here."

"Thanks, Sirius. I think he'll appreciate that."

"He got my mother off the wall. He's always welcome."


	3. Forbidden Knowledge

**Chapter Three - Forbidden Knowledge**

Getting Mr. Malfoy settled in didn't take much time at all. All of his belongings were kept in the folds and pockets of his robes. He closed the door of his guest room that Thursday night and didn't emerge again until Friday night, whence he ate some dinner and then returned to his room. He finally began a normal routine on Saturday morning, when he was the first at breakfast and cheerfully welcomed everyone to the table.

"Good morning, Mister Malfoy," Harry said, sitting down and reaching for the eggs.

"Sleep well?"

"Fine, thanks. You?"

"The best rest I've had in quite some time. Knowing that my family is safe is a great burden off my mind."

"Good morning, Harry. Lucius."

"Hi, Sirius."

"Cousin."

"Is Remus coming over today?" Harry wanted to spend more time with his former professor.

"Not until much later," Sirius said, shaking his head. "He starts his new job today."

"On a Saturday?"

"He's selling ice cream in the park. He bought the cart a few days ago. It is July, after all. It's genius, really. You're familiar with magical replication?"

"Gamp's Fourth Law."

"If you say so. If you have something, you can make more of it. So, Remus enchanted his ice cream tubs to continually replicate. He's making a killing."

"How ingenious," Mr. Malfoy said. "Quite cunning. I'm rather surprised, actually."

"I was talking about Gamp's Law with Remus the other day," Harry said. "I was explaining how I made the pillar in the sitting room."

"Perhaps that's where he got the idea?" Mr. Malfoy posed. "Once upon a time, I could have awarded points to Slytherin."

"Governors can't award points?"

"I don't believe we can. In any case, the competition for the House Cup hasn't started yet."

"Slytherin will take it again."

"I sincerely hope so."

"I look forward to seeing Harry fly again," Sirius interjected.

"Oh, Slytherin will take the Quidditch Cup too."

"Awfully confident. Some might say cocky."

"We've still got the best team at school. For one more season, at least. Most of the team is gone next year. I'm going to be the only one left."

"Then you'll be Captain," Mr. Malfoy said. "Congratulations."

"Thank you, sir. We're going to have new Beaters this year, and then I've got to replace all the Chasers and the Keeper."

"A tall order."

"It's probably going to end up being Draco, Millie, and Theo as Chasers. I have no idea who will go out for Keeper, but then I'll have to train them all to work together. There's all this pressure to hang on to the Cup," Harry continued, his tongue suddenly loose. "I don't want to be the one to lose it. Slytherin's had it for ten years. Eleven if you count this year. I don't want to be a failure."

"All great things must eventually come to an end," Sirius said. "In failure we learn and become stronger and more skilled. Experience counts. Do not be ashamed to admit that you were fairly beaten. You'll come back and take it again in seventh year. Go out in style."

"Winning is important, Harry. Whether it means rising before the sun for extra practice time or staying out past sunset to keep training. You are Slytherin. You are the best house of Hogwarts, the most cunning and creative. You have it in you to achieve great things, and if you decide you want to win the Quidditch Cup, then by Merlin, I believe you're going to figure out how to do it."

Mr. Malfoy's words boosted Harry's confidence, but Sirius' words held wisdom. As Harry thought about it, he realized that they were not incompatible. He would try with all of his skill and cleverness to win, but if he were beaten, it only meant he had to work harder and smarter.

An owl arrived at that moment. It was Shiva, the Patil family owl. He was bearing a letter, but as always would not relinquish it without being rewarded. Harry remembered what Padma had said in her first letter and held out a piece of toast. The bird snapped it up in one huge bite, cheeks bulging. He chewed several times and swallowed before opening his beak and hooting.

"More?"

Harry shoved the plate towards the owl, who began to devour the toast. He quickly untied the letter and opened it up.

Dear Harry,

I hope you're safe. I worry when I don't hear from you, and it's been a week. Please tell me you're all right. I want to know what's going on with you. Can you tell me where you are? Is anything happening, or is the Prophet all we know? Please, Harry. I've got to know.

Yours,

Padma

Well, it hadn't really been a week. Today was Saturday. He'd sent his last letter to Padma on Tuesday. She was exaggerating.

What she wanted to know, he couldn't tell her. He didn't really know much of anything that was going on aside from Mr. Malfoy's Dark Mark and the Fidelius Charm he'd cast over Malfoy Manor, which was now being used as Order Headquarters. Actually, that was fairly important information that he really shouldn't tell her or anyone else. He shouldn't even talk about it at all even with people who knew.

Harry scribbled back a reply saying that he was well and safe, no he hadn't heard anything more than was in the Daily Prophet, and that he was desolate without her.

After breakfast, Harry and Sirius went to the weight room. Mr. Malfoy declined to accompany them, citing a need to make certain communications with various people in the Wizengamot and the Ministry. War effort stuff, he assured Harry, and very boring.

"So is it as bad as you thought?" Harry asked Sirius cheekily.

Sirius laughed. "No, it's worse. What an impossible man! But yes, all things considered, he's being very cooperative. He's been a perfect gentleman so far. I can't complain about his manners. I expected him to be haughty and insulted at having to accept charity from someone he doesn't like."

"He likes you."

"Harry, he detests me. He always has."

"Maybe he detested you fourteen years ago, but that's a long time. People change. They mature. They come to new ways of thinking. So why can't you believe that Mister Malfoy has?"

"I'm starting to," Sirius said. "It was a very gutsy thing he did, snatching you from Voldemort like he did. He says he fights to protect his family. The things he's saying about blood and kin come right out of the same pureblood attitude I grew up hearing. He hasn't changed a bit. He just seems pointed in a different direction now. It's unnerving is what it is."

"So you're saying that his reasons for fighting and his priorities aren't the same as yours, and therefore you don't trust him?"

"I think that might be it, in short. We're fighting for the greater good, and he's fighting for his own skin."

"I should think that would make him fight harder," Harry observed. "Rather than for an ideal. It's personal for me too."

Harry lifted weights with Sirius until lunch. Lunch was quiet, as they were both tired and Mr. Malfoy was not yet done with his communications. After he'd finished eating, Harry went to his room and closed the door. He put a quiet Locking Charm in place and laid down on the bed. Focusing on his animal form, Harry bent his will to the task and made the transformation. He curled up under the pillow with just his nose sticking out.

Putting a Locking Charm on his bedroom door was not something he'd ever had to do before, but they'd never had a houseguest who didn't know about the lessons before either. The only guest or visitor they ever had was Moony. Now that Mr. Malfoy was living here, it was going to be difficult to spend long periods of time in his animal form without going unnoticed.

Which was more important? Attaining full Mastery of his Animagus change or keeping that knowledge contained to as few people as possible? Harry didn't know. He trusted Mr. Malfoy completely, but he was aware that many other people did not. He loved Sirius and knew that Sirius loved him and wanted what was best for him. His opinion meant a lot to Harry. That disconnect was enough to give him pause. It might not be prudent to tell Mr. Malfoy about this talent because he simply didn't need to know.

Harry realized he should probably be talking to Sirius about this. He emerged from under the pillow and resumed his real body. He found Sirius in the library. He was deep in a book, but he looked up as Harry closed the door behind him.

"Harry," he said with delight.

"Hi, Sirius. I was thinking about something."

"What's that?"

"Mister Malfoy doesn't know I'm an Animagus. I've kept it between you, me, and Moony."

"You want to tell him?"

"It's going to be hard to keep it from him if I'm going to get it perfect. I still need to stay in my form for long periods of time."

"Right." Sirius thought for a moment. "I would rather not, but I suppose there's no fixing it. You've absolutely got to master the transformation as soon as possible."

"Really? I'm surprised to hear you say that."

"Figured I'd start ranting and raving about him?" Sirius asked with a smirk.

"Well, yes."

"I was thinking about what you said earlier about how time changes people. You're right. I missed a lot of years while I was in Azkaban."

Harry's stomach lurched. "Sirius, I didn't mean-"

"Oh, it's all right, Harry. There's no point in hiding from the truth. I missed a lot of years, and now I'm using outdated knowledge of who he is. I don't really know what he's turned into. I just have my assumptions based on what I knew then, and I've obviously been wrong about a few things. The Lucius I believed in would have stood there and let you die and then knelt to kiss his master's feet. He would have done everything in his power to serve Voldemort, but with everything he's said about family and blood - and that's Lucius and most of pureblood society to the core - I think I now see that he would have served not out of devotion but out of fear. The threat to his family would have driven him to be the best Death Eater, to keep them safe."

"Yeah," said Harry. "That's pretty much it."

"But what changed all of that was you, Harry. He saw you and knew that if you could destroy Voldemort once, you could do it again, and he saw his chance at escape. He saw you and saw hope, and he proved that by his open defiance. He must have, otherwise he would have let it happen. He took a serious gamble, and we still have yet to see if it'll pay off. This is a long play, and I respect him for having the stones to have a go at it. We're going to do it, but Lucius doesn't know that. He only has faith in us and himself. What it takes to command the faith of Lucius Malfoy, well, that must be a pretty awesome thing."

"We are going to do it."

"We are. So let's give our ally a little bit of encouragement. Help him feel better about the odds on the wager he's made."

"I never thought I'd hear you care about Mister Malfoy's feelings." Harry couldn't help but make a wisecrack. The headiness of the moment had gotten too much. Finally, these adults were starting to understand each other.

"You'd better not let on that I did. I'm having far too much fun with him to have it ruined by a little sentimentality."

"You're impossible," Harry said with a laugh.

"I know."

"I'll just be going then. Thanks. Really."

Harry found Mr. Malfoy in the dining room having a late lunch. Kreacher had prepared a heavenly-smelling French onion soup served with fresh baked rolls on the side.

"Mister Malfoy?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I've got something I'd like to tell you."

"I'm listening."

"For the past year, I've been studying some illegal magic."

"Go on."

"It's not Dark or anything, but there are laws about it. I've been training to be an Animagus."

"Is Sirius teaching you?"

"You don't seem surprised."

"I'm not. In fact, I'd be surprised if he _wasn't_ trying to arm you with a very useful weapon. Likewise, I knew he either intended to teach or had taught you to Apparate. I began instructing Draco on the theory over the Easter holiday last year. If I knew the first thing about being an Animagus, I would have seen to that as well."

"Oh. Well." Harry didn't know what to say. He'd expected there to be surprise.

"Does he know you've told me?"

"Yes."

"He approves?"

"Yes. Grudgingly." Harry had to add that to protect Sirius' image.

"Of course. Well, thank you. I do appreciate the trust. It means a great deal."

"Yeah, that's what we figured."

* * *

At breakfast on Sunday morning, they received a letter from Professor Snape. Theo had woken up from his induced sleep. Madam Pomfrey had declared that he could receive visitors. Professor Snape suggested that Harry and Draco might want to visit.

"May I, Sirius? Please?"

"Certainly. We'll go when we've done eating, if that's all right?"

"Thank you."

Harry sent a quick owl off to Draco, telling him of the plan. He watched Regal wing away towards Wiltshire and was amazed to see Arlette coming within moments. It was far too soon for Regal to have arrived and Draco to have written a return letter.

Draco's message contained no indication that he had received Harry's letter. He reiterated what Professor Snape had said and suggested that Harry join him up at school to visit with Theo.

Sirius and Harry Apparated to just outside the gates of the castle grounds and quickly stepped inside. The dizzying sensation lasted less and less every time he used that mode of transportation. Rather like he'd gotten used to using the Floo, he was gradually becoming accustomed to Apparition. It certainly was convenient.

In the hospital wing, Theo still looked awful. Ugly yellow bruises had sprung up all over his face and arms, but at least his eyes were open.

"Hey, Theo," Harry said gently. "How do you feel, mate?"

Theo didn't answer. He gave a half-shrug.

"Madam taking good care of you?"

Theo nodded once.

"Good, good. Glad to hear it. We're all really worried about you, you know."

Theo said nothing.

"Did Madam say how much longer you've got to stay in bed?"

Theo shook his head slightly.

"I see. Well, get plenty of rest then. Nobody wants to spend summer holiday in the hospital wing."

Theo blinked twice and closed his eyes. Within a few minutes, his breathing evened out. He was asleep.

Draco entered the hospital wing. "I thought he was awake," he whispered.

"He was. Didn't say much though."

"I hope he's up and about soon. I want to talk Quidditch with him. Need to find out if he's going to be ready for trials."

"I doubt it."

"He's going to have to deal with it all sooner or later. Somehow. It might as well be through sport. At least he wouldn't be writing awful poetry and junk."

They sat there with him for several hours. Harry had brought his Potions text and spent his time reading for his homework assignment. Sirius opened a book entitled _Raising a Teenage Wizard in the Modern Era_. Draco also brought homework; he was braving Professor Sinistra's Astronomy assignment.

Professor Snape stopped by eventually. He exchanged greetings with everyone.

"Did he say anything to you?"

"No, not really."

"Anything?"

"Actually, not at all. He just sort of nodded his head a bit."

"It was the same for me. Ah well. He will speak when he wants to."

Theo did not wake up, and eventually it was time for lunch. In the Great Hall they sat at the Slytherin table and dined on the fare put together by the overeager house elves, who were delighted to have students to wait upon again. Even Sirius was deemed a student by the elves.

After lunch, Sirius said, "If you want to see Theo again, you should go now. It's time we were going."

Harry was reluctant to leave, but he knew Sirius was right. He could hardly stop everything to watch Theo sleep.

"May I come back tomorrow?"

"Yes, but it will have to be after the lesson."

The lesson! Harry had forgotten they were starting Apparition lessons tomorrow morning.

"First thing after breakfast. Draco, don't be late." Sirius leaned down and whispered something in his ear.

"Thank you, cousin. Will you be coming to get me?"

"Yes."

* * *

Monday morning after breakfast, Sirius left Grimmauld Place and returned with Draco. They all adjourned to the duelling room on the second floor. Sirius let Mr. Malfoy do the talking.

"Now then, the normal Ministry approved course of Apparition instruction runs for twelve weeks, meeting every Saturday. If we were to start now, you would finish in October. That is unacceptable. We have six weeks. I expect you both to master the technique. What I ask is difficult. The expectation is high, but you are Slytherins. You will train hard. You will rise to this challenge.

"The important things to remember when Apparating are the three D's! Destination, Determination, Deliberation!

"Step one: fix your mind firmly upon the desired destination. To Apparate someplace, you must know it. You must have been there yourself in person or have had it so well described to you that you can envision it. Photographs can help establish this mental picture, but Apparating to someplace you have never physically visited is still more risky than normal. You will be attempting to reach the circles I have drawn."

Well, that was easy enough. It wasn't hard to visualize a place when you could see it. In time they would move on to Apparating to places they couldn't see, but this was a good place to start.

"Step two: focus your determination to occupy the visualised space. Let your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every particle of your body! There is nothing of more importance than for you to cease to be where you are and to be where you envision. It must be done!"

Motivation. Harry had that in droves. Before Hogwarts, he'd once Apparated himself on to the roof of the school to get away from Dudley and his gang. Explaining that one had been impossible.

"Step three: turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with deliberation. Slip effortlessly into the ether. Travel the pathways of magic. Step sideways through space and time."

_Yeah, just like that._ Harry tried not to snort at how utterly useless the directions were. He sighed. _Well, here goes._

Harry spun on the spot, lost his balance and promptly fell over. Draco laughed at him, but he fared no better.

The second attempt was no better than the first. The third was just as bad. The fourth was rubbish.

"Can we add a fourth D?" Harry asked.

"What would that be?"

"Demonstration?"

Mr. Malfoy stepped forwards, turned gracefully on the spot with his arms outstretched and vanished in a swirl of robes, reappearing at the back of the Hall. "Remember the three D's," he said, "and try again. One — two — three."

They made absolutely no progress during that first lesson. Harry and Draco both managed to fall down quite a bit, but they managed not to laugh too much about it.

"Keep working," Mr. Malfoy said encouragingly. "You almost had it."

"Lucius, it's time to take a break."

"Soon, Cousin, soon."

"It's been an hour."

"Has it, now?"

"It has. They're tired. They need a short rest. They've been working hard."

"Yes, they have. Very well. Ten minutes, boys. Get a drink of water."

Kreacher brought goblets of ice water, which Harry and Draco gratefully slurped down. This was hot work. They were both sweating profusely.

"Another D," Harry said between gulps. "Dehydration."

"That's funny. This is brutal."

"No kidding." Harry had thought Animagus training was rough.

"All right, boys, on your feet."

"That was never ten minutes," Draco protested.

"It was."

"It wasn't."

"I'm not going to argue about this. I say it was ten minutes. Keep it up and the next ten minutes will be even shorter."

"Hey!"

"Now concentrate on your destination."

Apparition lessons continued until lunch. They got breaks when they were too tired to go on, but they never seemed to last long enough.

Harry nearly fell asleep on his sandwich. Draco sat with his elbow in the salad for almost five minutes. They were exhausted, and they hadn't accomplished anything. They were going to do this every day? Until they could do it perfectly? Masters of Apparition before starting fifth year? It seemed ludicrous, but they would try. It wasn't as though they had a lot of other things going on.

Remus returned to the house for lunch. He hadn't made many sales that morning, and he was in a bit of a irritable mood.

"There's a great many clouds out today, so the weather is not very warm. I've seen few people out, and even fewer were interested in buying ice cream."

"Rum luck, Remus," Harry said.

"I'm not even going back out today. Hopefully there'll be better weather tomorrow. This can't keep up. I've got to make the rent."

"Hey, Remus?" Sirius said.

"Yes, Sirius?"

"Are you really happy at that flat of yours?"

"Moderately. Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking you might take a room here. With the war on, it's a lot safer. I'll admit you won't be able to bring girls back here, but some sacrifices must be made."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that."

"Remus, one should always worry about that."

"I suppose we could always go to her place."

"Could you, Remus?" Harry asked pointedly. "Whose place? Have you got some girl you haven't been telling us about?"

"As a matter of fact, I have seen a particular young lady on several occasions."

"Who is the unlucky girl?" Sirius teased.

"Oh no, we are not going through this again. After what you did to James when he realized how bad he had it for Lily but wouldn't say anything, I will _hex_ you if you even try to figure it out before I decide to say something."

Sirius just laughed. Harry was also curious who Remus' mystery girl could be, but he respected the man's privacy enough to wait for a proper introduction.

"But this moving in business is not a bad idea."

"It's a lot safer here than out there. I worry about you, old friend."

"Sentimentality, Sirius? In front of the Slytherin?"

"The Slytherin has a name," Mr. Malfoy said pointedly. Sirius and Remus ignored him.

"Bother that. More to the point, why _shouldn't_ you move in here?"

"No reason, now that you mention it. Then it's settled."

"Do you help moving anything?"

"I am very accomplished at it by now, Sirius. Thank you."

Remus went and emptied his flat that very day. He brought with him just the one small suitcase held together with a considerable amount of knotted string.

After lunch, Sirius took Harry and Draco up to Hogwarts to see Theo again. He was awake, which made Draco very happy.

"Hey, mate, good to see you looking so well." Theo looked horrible. "So I've been thinking, this year is the last year for Warrington, Pucey, and Montague. If we want to step up next year, we should go to all the team practices, do all the same stuff. Then we can get the benefit of Bletchley's experience, because Harry's going to be the captain in sixth year, and we all know he's going to be rubbish at it."

Draco shot Harry a quick glance to indicate he was only kidding.

A brief smile twitched at the corners of Theo's mouth. It faded within seconds.

"So if you're going to fly with me, you need to get well soon. Eat all your vegetables, and do exactly what Madam tells you."

Theo nodded once. He turned his eyes to Harry. The brown irises were like a cracked mirror, revealing the soul beneath. He said nothing, and Harry was helpless to look away until weariness gradually caused his eyelids to close. Harry shivered.

It wouldn't take long for Theo's physical hurts to be healed. Curing the wounds of the spirit would take far more time. He might not even want to play Quidditch anymore.

Harry and Draco stayed, watching Theo sleep for an hour or so. Sirius entered and sat down next to the bed.

"How is he?"

"No change. He's been asleep for a bit. He was awake earlier."

Theo did not wake again, but his sleep was troubled by nightmares. Though he thrashed and flailed, he did not cry out. Draco slipped out to get Madam Pomfrey.

The matronly nurse quieted Theo's fit with a wave of her wand.

"Theodore," she said with authority. "Wake up, Theodore."

Theo's eyes flew open. He stared directly at her. She handed him the flask she carried.

"Drink," she commanded.

Theo obediently swallowed the potion and handed back the flask.

"Now sleep."

Theo closed his eyes again, and now his rest was quiet.

"Dreamless Sleep," she murmured, patting the flask with satisfaction. "Works every time. You lot might as well depart. He won't be waking any time soon."

* * *

It was quite the arrangement: four men in a house with only a house elf to cook and clean for them. All of the silver tableware was put away in boxes, replaced with even more ostentatious gold. It wouldn't do to poison Remus.

"Trying to impress me, Sirius?" Mr. Malfoy asked at dinner that night.

"You? Hardly, but my good and dear friend Remus does have a certain allergy to silver, and as there was no other kind of flatware in the house, this is what we have. I don't want to impress anyone. If I did, I wouldn't have discarded the china with the family crest."

"You threw out the family china? You mustn't tell Narcissa."

"Oh, she hated it as much as we all did back when we were children."

"She loves family history."

"The fine china coming out meant dressing up. It meant we had to be on best behaviour. It meant no teasing."

"You set a fine table, Sirius. Your hospitality has been most cordial. I am contented. The only want I lack for is the presence of my lady wife, but then, with her at my side, no other wants have a hold on me."

Mrs. Malfoy was staying in the family home to maintain order as chaos descended upon it. The Order of the Phoenix had set up shop in the east wing of the mansion.

Sirius and Remus mimed throwing up behind Mr. Malfoy's back. Harry tried not to grin. It was incredibly juvenile, but it wasn't outright antagonistic. A scant year had passed since they'd been constantly at each other with vicious words. Now one side was making good-natured fun of the other. It was quite the improvement.

All in all, Harry thought it quite remarkable that the reconciliation was going so smoothly. Now they were working together to plan Harry's birthday, which was only two weeks away. Sirius and Remus dragged Mr. Malfoy out of bed every morning at earlier and earlier hours, finally waking him up twenty-three minutes after he went to bed, and he shouted most furiously at them. Then Sirius and Remus had collapsed into laughter before dodging Stinging Hexes inexpertly aimed by the irate Lucius.

That was another strange thing happening. Sirius and Remus called Mr. Malfoy by his given name so much, Harry occasionally found himself thinking of his best friend's father as "Lucius". It was always unsettling when it happened, which fortunately wasn't often.

There could be no mistaking him during Apparition lessons, however. There he was most definitely Professor Malfoy and in charge of their training. He was unrelenting in his drive to see that both Harry and Draco became master Apparators. After a week of training for several hours a day, neither boy had managed to move so much as an inch.

"You are not concentrating hard enough," Mr. Malfoy thundered. "I was Apparating to places I couldn't see by the time I'd had a week of study. This is unacceptable. Apparate into those circles! Do it!"

There was a horrible screech of pain. Draco had moved into his designated circle, but he'd left his legs behind. He sat staring at the bloody stumps in shock.

Sirius and Mr. Malfoy converged on him; there was a great bang and a puff of purple smoke, which cleared to reveal Draco sobbing, reunited with his legs but looking horrified.

"Splinching, or the separation of random body parts, occurs when the mind is insufficiently determined. You must concentrate continually upon your destination, and move, without haste, but with deliberation."

Draco's Splinching was the most interesting thing that had happened so far in their training - that is, until it happened to Harry himself!

He was tired, frustrated, and eager to have the lesson over with. Harry looked at the circle, sighed, turned, and with a flash, his left hand was wrenched away by the forces of magic.

Harry stared down at the stump of his arm. There was no blood spurting from the hideous wound like he expected. Yellow bones stuck out, with the red meat of the muscles clinging. He tried to move.

The pain slammed into him with the unforgiving nature of an iron hammer. He screamed, ripping his throat raw with the agony.

Then Sirius and Mr. Malfoy were there. With a tremendous bang and another puff of purple smoke, Harry's hand was restored to him. He clutched it to his chest and began to sob.

"That's enough for today," Sirius said. "We'll try again tomorrow."

"Agreed, Sirius," Mr. Malfoy said. "Perhaps their focus will be improved."

Grateful to be free, Harry and Draco hurried off to Harry's room.

"What an awful feeling," Harry said.

"No kidding," Draco agreed. "I could still sort of feel my legs, but I couldn't make them move at all."

"I was fine until I tried to move my hand," Harry remembered. "Then the pain hit me."

Draco shuddered. "I never want to go through that again."

"Me either, but look at Professor Moody. He's had to deal with losing limbs."

"That magic eye _is_ very tally," Draco admitted. "I wouldn't mind one of those. Imagine the sorts of things you could see."

"I'd rather not need it, thanks."

"Oh, of course! But if you had to. Believe me, Harry, I've considered the sorts of nasty things that might happen to me during this war."

"And you're still with me."

"Terrified for my skin, but yes. V- v-"

"Come on, Draco," Harry said encouragingly. His best mate still hadn't managed to say Voldemort's name, though he had managed to stop flinching when it was spoken.

"Voldemort," Draco said quickly and quietly. "He'll do nasty things to me regardless of if I serve him or oppose him. So I might as well stand up and fight."

"Glad to have you, mate," Harry replied. "I wouldn't want to have to fight you."

He changed the subject. "So who do you think the prefects are going to be?"

"Obviously I hope it's me," Draco said. "Prefects can award or deduct points and can assign detention. Think of how handy it would be to be able to take points off of the Weasel if he got too annoying."

"Five points from Gryffindor!" Harry said, trying out the sound of it. It sounded good. "Detention, Weasley! With Professor Snape!"

Professor Snape, his Head of House, would probably frown on using his power too liberally, although it would most likely be because he had to supervise.

"Ten points to Slytherin!" Draco sounded even better.

Harry hoped he would have many opportunities to say all of those things. Assuming he was a prefect, of course. It all hinged on that. Harry tried to tell himself that he shouldn't get his hopes up. If he built himself a fantasy world based on the unproven assumption, it would be crushing when it all came crashing down around his ears. Best to just wait and see if a badge came with his Hogwarts letter and be pleasantly surprised.

Ah, who was he kidding? He wanted to be a prefect in the worst way. Prefects were the best of the best in Slytherin. It was recognition of skill and talent, diligent study, and exemplifying the traits Salazar Slytherin had valued.

Harry was at the top of several of his classes. He'd always done very well in Defence Against the Dark Arts and Potions, in third year he'd become the ace at Arithmancy, and in fourth year he'd developed an amazing facility with Transfiguration. He'd not only survived the Triwizard Tournament, but he'd won the thing with a combination of technically illegal magic and countless hours spent ducking, dodging, and duelling. He was Slytherin's star Seeker. He had unquestionably distinguished himself far beyond surviving the Killing Curse as a baby, done deeds on his own.

Was it so wrong of him to desire what anyone else in that position would desire? Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff was a Seeker, team captain, a prefect, a Triwizard Champion, and was likely going to be Head Boy. It was a hefty list of accomplishments. Harry had actually won the Triwizard Tournament. Harry had led his Quidditch team to victory for three years. Neither was something Diggory could say. Harry was likely going to be named Quidditch Captain next year, but he wanted to be a prefect too. His dad had been a Quidditch star, but his mum had been a prefect.

_If Voldemort had never gone after my parents, I'd have grown up unimportant. Nobody would have entered me into the Triwizard Tournament, but I'm sure I'd still be learning my unofficial lessons. Dad and Sirius are both Animagi; they probably would have started me as soon as I could walk. I might have known how to Apparate before going to school._

He'd still be just as smart as he was now. Maybe his study habits would be a bit worse. Harry thought about Sirius for a moment. Yes, definitely worse study habits. Though maybe his mum would be stricter in that regard.

* * *

On Friday morning, the booklists for the upcoming school year arrived. The envelope was thicker and heavier than normal. Harry started as something fell out. It was a silver badge. He picked it up and ran his fingers over the engraved letters. Prefect. He was a prefect.

His mum had been a prefect. She'd be proud of him. So would his dad, but his mum would be delighted that he was following in her steps. Maybe he would also be Head Boy some day like his dad had been. His mum had been Head Girl.

Dear Mr. Potter,

I have selected you to be a prefect. You are a fine example of all that a Slytherin should be. You are studious and skillful. You are clever and creative. You are a natural leader, and others follow the strength of your personality. You are also a political choice. I believe it is best to give you actual authority to reinforce your unofficial influence. Nevertheless, being a prefect is an important responsibility, and I will continue to expect only the best of you. Know that you have my utmost confidence.

Most sincerely,

Professor Severus Snape

Head of Slytherin House

Harry looked up at Sirius.

"I'm a prefect."

"Congratulations, Harry!" Sirius looked like he might burst. "Oh, I'm proud of you!"

"Well done, Harry," Remus said. "Your parents would be pleased."

Harry beamed.

"Congratulations, Harry," Mr. Malfoy said. "You are an excellent choice."

If Mr. Malfoy was disappointed that Draco hadn't been chosen, he didn't let it show. Elan had been a prefect, and Draco was expected to trod the same path. Draco wanted to succeed in other ways, like on the Quidditch pitch, but being prefect would have been nice.

"Remember that you are responsible for enforcing the rules now. It does not do to break them. You will quickly erode your own authority."

"We must have a special dinner tonight," Sirius declared. "Talk to Kreacher after breakfast, Harry, and tell him what you want to eat."

"I will." He grinned somewhat foolishly. "I'm so happy."

"Did you get your booklist?"

The booklist had only a few things listed. Not many of his classes were changing texts. There was the usual revision to The Standard Book of Spells. They were currently on Grade 5. There were also two books related to Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Countering the Curse by Geoffrey Odnol

Dark Creatures and How To Kill Them by Izzy Scamander

"Yes. When can we go to Diagon Alley?"

"I think we can arrange for tomorrow."

"Can I tell Padma? I'd really like to see her."

"If she can be trusted not to blab?"

"Padma knows how to stay quiet. Thanks, Sirius."

"A young man deserves a snog once in awhile," Sirius declared. "Even if there is a war on and grave threats to his safety."

"We have to go out anyway."

"Yes," Sirius said, not sounding happy about it. "Which is the only reason I'm agreeing to this. You're not going to be alone. Get that idea right out of your head. Your date will be in public, and myself and Remus will be there to keep an eye on things."

"Chaperones?" Harry was dismayed. How was he supposed to smooch his girlfriend with all eyes on him?

"It's as good a word as any."

Harry grumbled about it all day, but he wrote a letter to Padma inviting her and Parvati on a double date with him and Draco at Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Her return owl, received just before lunch, contained an acceptance.

* * *

The trip to Diagon Alley was conducted with some form of secrecy. Sirius turned Harry's black hair blonde. They could do nothing about the scar, of course, but Harry looked so radically different that it hardly mattered. Considering his altered appearance in the mirror, Harry thought he looked quite Swedish.

Harry didn't need to visit Gringott's. Sirius had a bulging moneypouch that he opened to pay for everything. Harry still found it a bit odd to let his guardian take care of him, but it was sort of nice to not think about money.

They visited Flourish and Blott's for their books. Harry thumbed through the Defence books and was pleased to see that they contained lots of incantations. Whomever was teaching Defence this year had good taste in literature.

A quick trip to the Apothecary was needed to replenish Potions ingredients. Harry picked up a few phials of salamander blood as well. He didn't know what he might have chance to use them for, but it seemed like a good idea to be prepared, and the price was too good to pass up.

In Madam Malkin's, Harry got fitted for new robes. His robes from last year were now too small for him. Harry had finally gotten used to the idea that he was entitled to have clothes that fit him decently. For years he'd had to contend with fat Dudley's cast-offs, but no more. Now he dressed finely in robes that were well-made, but seldom ostentatious.

Their shopping for school completed, it was time for the double date with the twins. The boys were the first to arrive at Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. They ordered cool drinks to fight the heat of the day and waited. At a few minutes past the hour, the girls walked in. Harry and Draco stood up as Padma and Parvati approached their table. Both girls accepted a brief peck on the lips before allowing the boys to pull out their chairs.

"So how have you been, 'Vati?" Draco said.

"I've been rather irritated," the Gryffindor said, getting right to the point. "Something weird happened before school let out. Suddenly you don't have time for me and nobody on the train even knew where you were. I haven't seen my boyfriend for nearly three weeks. He barely responds to his post, and when he does condescend to see me, it has to be in the middle of the day, in public, with chaperones? Oh yes, I see Professor Lupin trying to be inconspicuous in the far corner. So why don't you tell _me_ how you've been and what's going on?"

"There's nothing going on," Draco replied. "Nothing, that is, unless you count the evillest Dark wizard in a century finally coming back. He tried to kill my best mate, Parvati. You don't think I've been rightfully distracted by the idea that he might kill me too?"

"You-Know-Who would never kill Slytherins," Parvati scoffed. "Don't you all secretly follow him or something?"

Harry's temper flared. Draco, however, spoke first. "Never. Whether what he says about blood and Muggles echoes what we think or not, the Dark Lord is a madman. We do not approve of his tactics, for many reasons. Don't you ever again suggest that we are all good little miniature Death Eaters."

The vehemence in Draco's voice surprised even Harry. It was a nice bit of spin, to say that Voldemort's opinions on blood and Muggles happened to agree with Slytherin, rather than all Slytherins agreed with the Dark Lord. It was like saying that all squares were rectangles, but not all rectangles were squares.

"Draco's right," Harry said. "Obviously not all Slytherins are Death Eaters. Like me, for example. I'm a Slytherin, but you wouldn't catch _me_ worshiping Voldemort." The girls winced as he said the verboten name. "I'm not scared of his name either. He killed my parents and tried to kill me. Twice. I've sworn to avenge them."

"I'm going to help him," Draco said flatly.

"How are you going to do that?"

"Well, I don't rightly know yet."

"See, that's what I don't believe. You are a Slytherin. Slytherins always have a plan. You've decided to do this great thing. How did you plan to do it?"

"You don't develop a plan to defeat a Dark Lord in a fortnight, Parvati," Draco objected. "These things take time."

"So what've you got so far?"

"Study hard and earn a dozen OWLs."

"Are you serious?"

"Absolutely. We're not even qualified wizards yet. Who would trust us to do anything? We've got to finish school, take the NEWTs, and then probably join the Aurors or something."

"You, Draco Malfoy, join the Aurors?" Parvati sounded extremely skeptical.

"I admit, it's not the most common idea, but it does have a certain merit to it."

"There's something going on," Parvati declared. "You're not likely to wait six years before doing anything."

"There's nothing going on," Draco denied.

"Draco, I'm not stupid. Tell me what's going on!"

"There's nothing going on! Harry, is there anything going on?"

"No, there's nothing going on."

"See, Parvati? There's nothing going on."

"Stop that, Malfoy!"

"What, being right?" Draco scoffed. "Forget it."

"No, forget _you_, Malfoy!" Parvati practically spat. "You were an interesting enough diversion, but I'm through with you."

Draco laughed sharply. "Through with _me_? Get a fresh grasp on reality, Patil. I only asked you out because I wanted to irritate Parkinson. Merlin knows that worked fantastically. It was a lot of fun conspiring with you in that regard. I think you enjoyed that aspect of it more than me. I, on the other hand, much preferred the snogging."

"You _slime_, Malfoy!" Parvati hissed.

"Oh, you're pretty enough, Parvati, but I decided to ask you out because I wanted to rub it in Weasley's face that I could get what he couldn't."

"Harry said you were smitten with me."

"Harry?" Draco suddenly sounded confused.

"The only reason I went out with you is because I owed Harry a favour. He called it in to make sure I said yes when you asked me to the Yule Ball."

"Did he now?" Draco drawled, not glancing at Harry at all. "Well, thanks, old chum. I do appreciate that."

"Think nothing of it, my good man," Harry said, also affecting somewhat of a pompous drawl.

"Oooh!" Parvati fumed. "You're not supposed to thank him!"

"Hoping I'd be angry? I'm quite honoured that Harry called in a favour on my behalf. He could have waited another few years until your hips finish filling out and then asked you to perform the Dance of the Seven Veils for him. I would have, if you'd owed me."

"I pray I never have to owe you a favour."

Draco laughed again. "Never fear, Parvati. I won't seek that. Much."

"Your crudity makes me sick," Padma interjected. "I thought you were supposed to be civilized."

"I've had enough of breathing the same air as you, Malfoy," Parvati declared, standing up. "Good bye. Come on, Padma."

Padma also stood up. She glanced at Harry. "I can't go out with you anymore, Harry. Your best mate is too much of an evil git."

Harry's temper flared. "Then go! Thanks for the snogging. I was just about finished with you anyway."

Hurt flashed in Padma's eyes, and she turned away. The sisters hurried out of the shoppe. The boys sat in empty silence for a moment.

"Good riddance," Draco pronounced. "Pain in the arse, right?"

"Yeah."

Girls were downright dizzying. Harry still felt himself hovering above the table, disconnected from the scene. What had happened to their nice ice cream date? He'd been looking forward to finally having another date with his girlfriend, and now he was broken up. What had he missed?

"We don't need to put up with that. Did they ever think that we couldn't tell them even if we knew what was going on?"

"We could have explained that."

"Could have, but then we'd have to explain why we would even know there was something going on. Lots of awkward questions all around."

"True."

Harry felt strangely liberated. He'd been wondering how he was going to keep everything from Padma. The more Harry thought about it, the more he realized just how pushy Padma had been in trying to get him to tell her what was going on. She knew he was involved somehow, but that was all she knew. She wanted to know more. Now he didn't have to worry about it.

Remus and Sirius came over.

"I take it things didn't go well," Remus said casually.

"Not according to plan, anyway," Draco said. "Let's get out of here."


	4. Letters

**Chapter Four - Letters**

Harry returned to Grimmauld Place feeling very unsatisfied with how the day had turned out. All the fun of going around Diagon Alley with Sirius, Remus, and Draco had been wiped away by the disaster of his double date with the Patil twins.

He still couldn't believe what had happened. Now that the concept was settling a bit, Harry felt bewildered and a little sad. He and Padma had been a couple for over half a year. They'd studied together, and his marks were better from associating with the Ravenclaw. She'd stuck by him through the hell of the Triwizard Tournament. Most of it, anyway. She, like most of the rest of the school had thought him culpable of hoodwinking the Goblet of Fire. That had been before the dragons.

He had asked her to the Yule Ball, and they'd danced the magical night away, ending with an utterly dizzying snog. She was the first girl he'd ever been serious about, the first one to leave marks on his neck. He'd never expected them to last forever, but he'd been taken completely unawares by the sudden break-up.

Padma had left him. Despite the words he'd shouted in anger, she'd left him. Whatever her reason, she'd dumped him. She wanted nothing to do with him.

He was uncomfortably reminded of the Dursleys. They'd never wanted him. They'd thought him some sort of devil and had treated his presence in their midst accordingly. He'd felt insignificant then, and he felt equally meaningless now.

Harry barely said two words to Draco as he went to his room and lay down on the bed. He didn't want to lift weights or work on his essays for school. He tucked his knees up to his chin and stared at the wall without seeing it.

There was a knock on the door.

"Harry?" Sirius called. "May I come in?"

"Sure," Harry said.

"Did you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Would you be willing to anyway? It could help."

"What's there to say?"

"Why not tell me what happened?"

"I don't even know. Things started all wrong. Parvati jumped down Draco's throat first thing about not seeing him all summer. She knows there's something going on. Parvati kept after him and they finally lost their tempers. Then Padma jumped in and starting calling Draco names. I had to stand up for my best mate, didn't I?"

"Of course."

"Padma's been pestering me pretty bad all month, and I sort of dodged her questions. I'm sure I said too much though. Of course she would tell her sister."

"As she should."

"Yeah, I guess. I just wish Parvati hadn't been so pushy. She just _had_ to know. It's not like we could really tell them anything. We don't _know_ anything. Why wouldn't they believe us?"

"I don't know, Harry. Sometimes things just don't work out. Personalities clash. If it hadn't been this, maybe it would have been another thing. Don't eat yourself up inside because of it. Couples fight. Couples break up. It's the way of things. You don't always find the right one on the first time out. Trust me, I should know."

"I really liked Padma."

"She seems like a girl worth liking, and it doesn't make you bad people because you don't make a good couple."

"I can't believe we dated for seven months. Now it's over, just like that."

"Everything changes, Harry. Nothing stays the same."

"I know. Thanks, Sirius."

Harry gave his godfather a hug. Talking with Sirius had helped him deal with the stress of the Triwizard Tournament too. Not for the first time, Harry thanked Merlin for all the blessings in his life.

That weekend, Harry exchanged a flurry of letters with lots of different people. Poor Regal was constantly going here and there with envelopes clutched in his talons, pinched in his beak, and tied to his leg. The bird accepted the tying, hesitated a moment before accepting the second letter with his talons, and gave Harry a really bad look before snatching the third envelope out of Harry's hand and winging off into the sky. Harry didn't push his luck after that, sending just two at a time, and making sure to have lots of bacon available.

Harry's letter-writing began with a missive from Daphne received the morning after his impromptu break-up with Padma. It was penned in her usual unique handwriting, whimsy having led her to choose blue ink. He opened the envelope and unfolded the parchment, which was also decorated with small designs.

Dear Harry,

Would you care to take wagers on who is having the most boring holiday? I haven't done anythingfun. Mum refuses to let me leave the house with the stupid war back on. I've had to suntan in my room by setting up mirrors in windows. My tan is coming along great, if you were wondering. You might not ask, but I know you're thinking it. If you weren't, you are now!

It's going to be this bad all summer. I just know it. She's off her broom. Keeps on ranting about not going through this again. She doesn't talk much about the war days. I can't wait to get back to school where things are sane.

So enough about me and my problems. How about you and your problems? Tell me all about it so I can tell you to stop being a prat and get over it already. I eagerly await news from the outside world.

All my best,

Daphne

The evil-looking cartoon goblin that Daphne had drawn cackled and pointed at Harry, making him grin at her cleverness. She was pretty handy with her charms, and she wasn't half bad at drawing either. The lines were strong, and the shading was rather good.

Harry wondered at Mrs. Greengrass's foul moods. What had she gone through in the last war that she didn't want to endure again? Had she been in school, compelled by the collective of the house to support those with Dark ambitions? Had her family been threatened to make her comply? Those were Voldemort's tactics, and she would surely be worried about a repeat performance.

Dear Daphne,

So you may as well know. I broke up with Padma. We had a double date with Draco and Parvati in Diagon Alley yesterday after we got done school shopping. They seemed convinced that there was something going on, that we knew more about the war effort than we really did. They didn't believe us when we said no. Parvati called Draco all kinds of names, and they said some pretty awful things to each other. Then she said she'd had enough of him, and he said he'd had enough of her. Then she said she never wanted to go out with him in the first place, and he said he'd only been fooling around with her. It was rather ugly, now that I think about it, but then Padma got into it, saying things about Draco. Well, I had to stick up for my best mate, didn't I? So, I told her to go ahead and follow her sister right out the door. I don't want a girl who thinks my best mate is a slimy bottom-feeder. It's not helpful.

My problems are much the same as yours. I am confined to the house. Glad you figured out a way to tan. The House of Black has a very nice skylight that I have considered laying under. Haven't been that worried about a tan to follow through.

I keep thinking about the war and how tough things are going to be now. I hope you can persuade your folks to stay neutral. It doesn't sound like they're eager to fight at all. Neutral is better than nothing, but you're with me at least. I couldn't ask for a whole lot more.

Cheers,

Harry

P.S.: I'm a prefect!

* * *

**POTTER BREAKS HEARTS**

by Rita Skeeter

Single witches from age 14-24 can start working on their new look - Harry Potter is available again.

The Champion from Slytherin persevered in the Triwizard Tournament with the comfort and support of his girlfriend, Padma Patil of Ravenclaw. She was radiant in turquoise at the Yule Ball. She was at his side as he prepared for the rescue mission under the lake and the twisted tangles of the maze.

What foul influence turned such sweet, promising love into poison?

Just yesterday, the pair met for a double date with Padma's twin sister Parvati and Harry's best mate Draco Malfoy. It should have been ice cream and sunshine, but the peace was shattered when the girls got pushy.

"We've been in hiding since the end of school," Draco said by owl. "With the war on again, security is a big deal. Those girls have been trying to get us to tell them where we are all summer. Then when we finally do get a chance to see them, they don't stop asking. I'd like to know why they were so insistent."

Mayank Patil is a dealer in fine perfumes, and he does much importing and exporting. Is he selling more than scents? Could the Dark Lord have put Patil under his thumb? What other reason could there be for demanding to know the details of Harry Potter's security?

Amelia Bones, Director of Magical Law Enforcement, had no comment when asked about a potential investigation of Patil. As we know, the Auror's office only comments when there is nothing going on. Readers, draw your own conclusions.

Harry plays Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team, and sport and weight-lifting have earned him a body to be proud of. He has the most dreamy green eyes a girl could ever want to get lost in. Harry's not just a pretty face, though. He is also a prefect. They'll be knocking down his door by the dozen.

* * *

Dear Harry,

YOU BROKE UP WITH PADMA FOR MALFOY?! You IDIOT! What a FOOL you are! It took a lot of guts, I'll give you that, but you're a MORON! Malfoy was not worth it.

So anyway. Who are you planning on asking out next? I'm not that serious about Terry, but a bit more serious than I should be to say yes if you ask me out. So I hope you'll spare me the anguish I would surely endure and look elsewhere. You may be the most eligible boy around, but Terry knows how to flatter me properly.

Millie STILL has the world's worst crush on Krum, even though they've been out together since the Yule Ball. I'd save your breath. Daphne, now, is a distinct possibility. She's the one who told me about you and Padma, by the bye. I think she'll try to catch your eye, and you certainly could do worse.

Maybe you could date one of the younger Slytherin girls. Laine is very well-connected. She's smart, clever, and ruthless. You couldn't ask for much more in a girlfriend. Or you could go for gusto and ask out Weasley. That would drive Weasel out of his mind. That makes it worth doing right there. It would almost be like dating outside the house, because from everything I've seen, she still acts like a bloody Gryffindor.

Or you could really look outside the house. Perhaps not in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, though, given what you just did to Padma. That leaves Hufflepuff. Susan Bones is well-connected in the Ministry. Her aunt is Director of Magical Law Enforcement. She's going to be a legacy case if she goes into the Auror Corps. Good for her, I say. If I were any good at Charms or Defence, I still wouldn't want to be an Auror, but someone has to do it.

Or you could consider Hannah Abbott. She's got a good pedigree as well, even if her mother is Muggleborn. By all accounts, her mum is quite the artist. That hair of Hannah's is fantastic, and I'd kill Theo to have it.

So think about it and let me know. I'll fill you in on whomever you pick. Likes, dislikes, that sort of thing. Can't have you go out unprepared. Talk to you soon!

Conspiratorially,

Pansy

P.S.: I was named a prefect. I'm so happy!

Harry grinned. Pansy would kill Theo for just about any reason. It was awfully cute. Harry had hoped that they might finally realize how bad they each had it for each other when Theo asked her to the Yule Ball last Christmas. That whole night had blown up for Theo, Pansy, Terry, and Tracy. Terry and Pansy had started seeing each other soon after that, and now things between Theo and Pansy were worse than ever. At least it was entertaining when they bickered.

More bothersome was the question she raised, one Harry had already thought about. Did he want to start dating a new girl right away? He still couldn't believe he had been dating Padma Patil, nevermind that he'd broken up with her. What sort of person broke up with the prettiest girl in school? Surely everyone would think him mad.

Pansy was offering him all the "juicy stuff" on whichever girl he decided to ask out. She knew reams of information about every one and every thing at Hogwarts and in the larger wizarding world. Harry wasn't entirely certain how he'd become so close with Pansy. She'd always been around but caught up in her world of gossip and girly things. During the last year, Pansy had been one of his nearest and dearest friends. She'd kept the vicious rumours that had been flying around the school from going completely out of control. Harry didn't know how he would have managed without her.

It was what he imagined having a sister might be like. He didn't think much of her romantically. Somehow she'd never given him that vibration. Well, there was the one time when she'd lured him to a secluded corridor, but it had only been to talk about Draco. She and Harry conspired together on all manner of things. It looked as though their next cunning Slytherin plot would be to find Harry a new girlfriend.

Pansy thought Daphne might be a distinct possibility. She _was_ a lot of fun. Harry opened Daphne's letter up again and re-read her first paragraph. Daphne, flippant as she was, was nonetheless correct. The image rose in his mind of Daphne tanning herself. Her blonde hair was bleached brighter from the sun, and she wore shades to protect her eyes. She was wearing a very small green and silver bikini held together with thin strings.

Harry shook his head. _Wow_, he thought. _Is my imagination out of control or what_? Daphne would probably laugh at him if she knew what he was thinking. _But maybe once she got done making fun of me_... He shook his head again. He'd have to figure out a way to learn her real feelings before he attempted a move on Daphne.

He tried to tell himself that he had no romantic feelings towards his most irreverant friend, but now that the possibility was seriously being considered, the memory of their kiss at Christmas during third year suddenly sprang up in his consciousness. Now that he'd broken up with Padma, maybe Daphne would be interested in going out.

He pulled out a piece of parchment and reached for his quill.

Dear Pansy,

Your offer of info is gratefully accepted. I don't know who yet. Maybe I'll stay a bacholer and drive all the girls bonkers a bit. That could be fun too.

Draco is my best mate, and the way Parvati and then Padma started talking about him was absolutely uncalled for. You would have stuck up for him too, and you know it. Everyone knows how much you hate Parvati.

So you're serious about Terry, are you? That's so sweet! I think I might gag. Wait until I tell Daphne!

Mischeivously,

Harry

P.S.: I'm a prefect too! We're going to have a lot of fun this year! I've been practicing my prefect voice.

* * *

Dear Harry,

You broke up with Padma because Parvati broke up with Draco? Is that correct? In any case, that's hysterical. I'm not sure who you should ask out next. Pansy's pretty in to Terry, but I bet if you were really smooth, you could get her to go out with you. You can forget about Millie. Of course we all know Tracy is a non-option. If you don't have anyone in mind, you could sit back and see who approaches you with romantic ideas.

A prefect? Fantastic! Now we can get away with all sorts of trouble! We must talk further about this once I've done some plotting.

Cheers,

Daphne

* * *

Dear Harry,

If you had known what a firestorm this would ignite, would you still have told the world that the Dark Lord is back? Everyone is buzzing about it, and everyone is worried. Nobody knows what's going to happen. The Ministry is drawing up a lot of advisories and response apparatus and plans to strike back. Something a lot of people are saying is that the Dark Lord has made a mistake by taking such a public place as his headquarters. It's a good secure place, yes, but we know where he is. We can hit him hard and make it count.

I hope so anyway. My parents have decided that our best chances for the war are to back the Ministry. They're taking a hard line early, and my father likes that. With the right sort of attitude now, rather than trying to pretend it's not that bad or that it's no big deal - or worse, that it's not happening at all! - is what it's going to take to properly fight this thing.

As for me, you know I'll stick with you. I would never want to wear those ugly robes or stupid masks. I'll fight until my last breath to avoid _that_. As long as I get to choose my own clothes, you're my star.

So I hope you're doing well. Please give your godfather my greetings. Above all, stay safe. You're too cute to die ignobly. Or nobly. Or at all. So you'd better not!

Sincerely yours,

Laine

Harry didn't want to contemplate what might have happened had the Ministry not decided to recognize Voldemort's return. How much stronger would his power base be with more time to prepare behind the scenes? How much better would his posture be? How many good wizards could he corrupt, intimidate, or Imperius? He might even be able to topple the Ministry from the inside.

The prospect of such a bleak future was depressing, but what gave Harry hope was what Laine said about her father. Mr. Slater was a very important man, and if he had decided to support the Ministry effort, then others would too. Whether it was because they decided to follow his lead or because the very influential man decided to peddle some of his influence, Harry didn't rightly care. Every wand raised against Voldemort was one not raised against him. The more people he could persuade to sit out of the fight, if they wouldn't take up arms, the better.

Dear Laine,

You always choose very nice clothes, so I support you in your determination to not become a Death Eater. I'm glad to have your support, both magically and as a friend. You've really come through for me in a big way in the past year, and I appreciate it. I won't forget it.

Sirius sends his greetings in return. We're both well. I'm going a little stir-crazy with the war on, but it's to keep us safe. I don't like it, but the adults are doing it for a good reason. We're not fully trained wizards yet, and Death Eaters are very, very nasty bits of work. Sirius has told me a lot of stories from the last war. The idea of an attack in public against children is awful, and when they put it into perspective like that, it really makes you consider. I know as Slytherins we're widely thought to be half-evil at birth and fully baptised upon the Hat shouting "Slytherin!", but Slytherin families, the old blood, are really only safe as long as they follow Voldemort. My father's family is old blood, but Voldemort still came after them because they wouldn't play his game. Granted they're a line of Gryffindors, but still.

So I'm glad your dad has decided to support the war effort. I'm sure his words will be taken seriously. Please tell him I said thank you.

I've got to go now. Sirius, Remus, and I are lifting weights today. We do that a lot. Not much else to do when you can't fly or get outdoors.

Sincerely,

Harry

P.S.: I'm a prefect!

Harry was about to tie the letter on to Regal's leg when he was interrupted by the arrival of another owl. It had been a long time since he'd seen the Davis family owl, and during last summer, Tracy had been trying to get him to go on dates with her. Whereas he had once viewed Neil's arrival with dread, now it seemed a positive thing. He quickly opened the envelope and gave the bird a strip of bacon.

Dear Harry,

I heard you broke up with Padma. Good for you! Sticking up for your best mate is always the right thing to do. She doesn't get the right to talk about our Draco that way, even if he is a right ditherhead at times.

My folks are very nervous about this war thing. I think they hope to just stay out of the way. Neither of them is what you might call gifted. They'll probably_make_ a gift - anonymously - of Galleons to the Ministry to fund the effort. Aurors like to be paid, you know.

Jamie is thinking about signing up for the Healer training now that it's free. Mother and Father didn't approve - they probably still don't - and they wouldn't pay for her enrollment. Now they don't have to. Father probably will let her go. He'll tell her to go ahead and waste her life. Honestly, he's never forgiven her for being a girl. If only I'd been a boy, maybe he'd like her a little more. Unless he and mother- eeeew!

Okay, I am not ending this letter like that. Have you started your homework yet? What did you think of Snape's assignment? Can you believe he wants two scrolls about Rolappine spores? I know he's our Head of House, but that's a bit much! I'll be forever at it. Then there's McGonagall's thing I've been afraid to even open. Maybe you can give me some help with it. You've become the best in our year at Transfiguration.

Write me back soon!

Sincerely,

Tracy

P.S.: Do you know who the prefects are?

Harry put down Tracy's letter, thoughtfully digesting everything she'd said and, perhaps more importantly, what she had not said. She'd heard about him breaking up with Padma, but she didn't make any hints at all about getting back together. Oh, she'd mentioned getting his help with Transfiguration, but Harry had looked at McGonagall's assignment, and Tracy was right to be afraid. Aside from that completely reasonable request, there was nothing even suspicious in her missive. Was she finally starting to accept that he only thought of her as a friend?

Dear Tracy,

I cannot believe you rambled into discussing the possibility of a new sibling. Are you trying to gross me out on purpose?

Tell Jamie I think she'd make a great Healer. We're going to need good ones for the dark times that are coming. I'm glad your parents will make a donation. Everyone helps in different ways. We can't all be Aurors.

I'm a prefect! I got my badge on Wednesday! I'm so excited I think I might burst. My mum was a prefect too. Sirius says my folks would be proud of me. I hope so.

Gotta cut this short. Sirius and I are lifting weights today. Sorry!

Sincerely,

Harry

P.S.: I cannot help you on the theoretical portion of Transfiguration. I just can _do_ it really well. I think we're both going to have to seek Merlin's blessing to get through old McG next year.

Harry gave the letters to Regal and headed to the weight room. Sirius was already there and looking through the music crystals.

"What shall we listen to today?"

"Wand Smasher?"

"Again?"

"Unless you've got a better suggestion," Harry said. "I've had a letter from Laine. She says hello to you."

"Which one is Laine?" Sirius asked, sounding confused.

"The long auburn hair. Slytherin. Year below me. The twin."

"Ah! Okay. Sorry, but it's hard to keep track of all your girlfriends."

Sirius sounded very serious with his apology, and Harry blushed to the roots of his hair.

"Sirius!"

"Well it is, isn't it? I can't even keep all the names straight. Laine, Daphne, Susan, Hannah, Padma, Pansy-"

"I'm not seeing Pansy!"

"But you are all the rest? I understand."

"Sirius!"

"Ah hah! How about this?"

"Rabid Hippogryff? Yeah, all right."

Sirius put the crystal into the wizard's wireless. Music began to play. They took time to stretch, always important before lifting. After they'd limbered up, they started with some low-density weights. When Harry's muscles had warmed up, he tapped his wand to the barbell and turned up the density to his personal maximum setting. His repetitions were coming easier, and he could manage more of them. He reached twenty and set the bar down with a grunt.

"You're getting stronger. That's good."

"I think it might be time to turn up the weight a bit more. I bet I can lift more than this."

"Give it a try."

Harry tapped the weights again. This was the most he'd ever tried to lift. He set his feet shoulder-width apart. He crouched down and grasped the bar. He inhaled deeply and exhaled sharply. Though he strained with the effort of picking it up, he was able to stand up. Stars swam in his vision, but he held the barbell at his chest.

"Well done, Harry!"

Harry had no breath to respond.

He inhaled again and pushed the bar up above his head. Though his arms trembled, the bar didn't drift. He'd done it! Now to bring it down safely. Back to the chest, down to the ground. His breath was ragged in his lungs. He'd done it!

When he'd recovered from his exertion, Harry turned down the density slightly. He would attempt to manage repetitions at a lower weight to build his stamina. Today, though, he could only manage four.

"I'm taking a rest."

"Sure, Harry. Have some water."

"Kreacher!"

Kreacher appeared with a bang. he bowed low, nose to the floor.

"Master Harry is calling. Kreacher answers like the good elf he is. How may Kreacher serve the noble and sweaty Master?"

"Some water, please. A large pitcher and some ice, too."

"Kreacher is bringing the water."

Though old, the Black family house elf was devoted and attentive. He lived to serve, and with all the activity in the past two summers, he'd been in his glory. He, like his Mistress, was thoroughly hateful of all things not pure, but that's who had come to the house. Master Sirius was back in his childhood home, Harry was his godson and had a good pedigree on the Potter side, all of Harry's friends were from pureblood Slytherin families, and now Lucius Malfoy, patriarch of a very old family indeed, was residing under the very roof. His language muzzled through Master's command, only Remus' presence cast a blight on Kreacher's existence.

The water was crisp, cold, and thirst-quenching. Harry held the glass up to his forehead. The cool kiss against his hot brow was heavenly. He sat on the floor against the wall and caught his breath.

"Sirius, tell me a story, please."

There was nothing like hearing the old stories about his parents. His godfather was full of adventures that the Marauders had been through at Hogwarts, in the Forbidden forest, and even on the streets of London. Other times the story was darker, about the war. Those were instructive rather than entertaining, and Harry always paid close attention.

"Sure, Harry. Pour me some of that water, if you'd be so kind."

Harry handed him the glass, and Sirius drank deeply.

"Marvellous. A story, a story. Well, your father and I went on a raid this one time. We'd done a fair number of raids by that point, so breaking into a well-guarded house to spy on a Death Eater meeting didn't seem like any big deal. Dumbledore gave us the location. We got on my motorbike, because the place was heavily shielded against intrusion. Anti-Apparition Fields, Redirection Charms, and nasty countermeasures to boot. No, going in by the street was the only choice. Good thing the house was in the city, that's all I'll say. Otherwise we would have been forced to walk the whole way."

"Though you could have run in your Animagus forms."

"We could have done that, yes, but the motorbike is so much quicker. So we go. I managed to trip the perimeter spells, but before anyone could arrive to investigate, I bounced us actually up on to the roof and hit the invisibility booster. We left it there while we snuck inside. Turns out we were in a bad neighborhood, because all the windows had bars on them, and those bars were inscribed with runes. There was no way we were getting in that way. We couldn't go down to the ground level because the lowly Death Eaters sent to look for the intruder were still in the middle of their search."

"So what did you do?"

"I wanted to go straight down through the roof, but your dad said there was no way of knowing what we'd find beneath us. He suggested we find some holiday spirit and go down the chimney."

"Like Father Christmas?"

"Exactly so. Well it was brilliant. No spells whatsoever on the chimney. We were able to get down inside the house. Of course we were covered in soot, but these things can't be helped. We got under the invisibility cloak and went to find the meeting of the important Death Eaters."

"Wow. What happened then?"

"We found them in the dining room. They went over the plans for their next attack. We got out, got back up the chimney, hopped on the motorbike, and flew off."

"You got away just like that?"

"The properties of protective enchantments are particularly interesting. One must take care to prohibit passage in opposite directions. The average shield is unidirectional. It will keep people out but not in. We got away just like that."

* * *

Dear Harry,

Well, you've gone and done it this time, haven't you? Voldemort's back and there's going to be trouble. It's all over the Prophet, isn't it? So far I haven't seen your name mentioned hardly at all, which surprises me greatly.

Being back home at the Burrow is hard. Ron's upset because he was supposed to go to Romania to live with Charlie for the summer, but Mum won't hear of it now that the war is back on. He's being a right beast, always asking me when the Slytherins are planning to sign up for the Junior Death Eater club. I'm so very tired of him. Threatening to hex him doesn't work anymore. Says he's had it as rough as it gets from you and your lot. Would you like to assist me in twisting his brain a bit?

The twins keep reading all the articles about the Ministry preparations and looking through the help wanted section. I think they're harboring thoughts of not going back to school for their N.E.W.T.s. Mum would kill them of course, but they keep talking about Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon who fought in the last war. That's why Mum would kill them. Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon didn't come home one night. Bad times have come again, and Mum wants no part of it.

Charlie is visiting. We got to see him when he brought the dragon up for the First Task, but he was working and couldn't drop home. Then he came home at Christmas and surprised us all. Now he's here again at the start of summer holiday. Something is going on, even if he is playing it cool. Mum is so happy to have him here, she hasn't pressed him for his reasons. Now if only Bill and Percy came home, the whole family would be together.

I hope all is well with you. Talk to you soon!

Ginny

Ron Weasley was a constant thorn in Harry's side. He could never seem to resist tossing off a vile insult whenever he saw the Slytherins. No matter how many times they hexed him in return, he always seemed to find it in him to keep being mouthy. His tired mantra of "slimy Slytherins" was aggravating in the extreme. It seemed to be his personal mission to antagonize Harry and whomever he happened to be with. It made no sense to Harry that Ron hated him just for being a Slytherin. Harry hated Ron because Ron was an arse; it was personal.

But Ginny was all right in Harry's view. Driven from her house by roommates who didn't understand what she'd gone through her first year, her brother Percy had asked Harry to look after her when he finished school. At Harry's asking, the Slytherin girls had taken her in. Ginny had repaid his kindness with friendship. She'd stuck up for him during the damned Triwizard Tournament, and she hadn't hesitated at all to sign up in the fight against Voldemort. Regardless of where she slept, she had the heart of a lion.

Percy was the other Weasley Harry counted amongst his friends. Once a Gryffindor prefect, he'd stopped his siblings from practically killing Draco during second year. For the subsequent ban of the twins from the Interhouse Quidditch Cup and the loss of more points since anybody could remember, Percy had been dubbed a traitor to his house. Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain, Oliver Wood, had been in Percy's year and took things rather personally.

Things had finally come to a head when Harry had discovered Percy bound and gagged, dangling upside down by his feet from the Astronomy Tower. The Slytherin sixth years had acted at that point. Percy had saved Draco, Draco was younger brother to Elan, and Elan was the leader of their little group. Given a home in Slytherin, Percy had turned out quite well. He was Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and he was barely nineteen.

Harry didn't really know the twins aside from that rather stand-out incident. They were two years ahead of him, and the forms generally didn't mix. The Slytherin soon-to-be fourth and fifth years were an exception. Charlie he'd met just once before, at the Quidditch World Cup. They'd had a bit of a pissing match about who was the better Seeker. Harry didn't really hold it against Charlie that he was an egotistical prat. That was Seeker's prerogative. Bill he'd also met at the Quidditch World Cup, and he'd largely remained quiet.

Mrs. Weasley had raised quite a brood. Harry had met her before, too, and she was a very nice lady. The first thing she'd ever done was to show him how to get on to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Then in his second year, she'd sent him pot roast when it had come out about how Harry had been treated at the Dursleys. They'd starved him, so she'd sent him food. The last time they'd met, Ginny had introduced them on the platform. He'd introduced them to Sirius.

Actually the only Weasley he'd not met was the patriarch, Arthur Weasley. He was a Ministry employee, manning the desk in the Centaur Office, a job which paid little. He moonlighted as a driver for the Knight Bus. Harry had not introduced himself on the occasion in third year when he'd taken the bus away from Privet Drive, but the man had been kindly enough. He apparently had a great interest in all things Muggle, one of the reasons he'd been side-lined into unimportant jobs. Though perhaps with the war back on, the Ministry would need all the people it could get. It might prove a blessing in disguise for Mr. Weasley, and he could achieve some distinction in whatever wartime task he was given.

Dear Ginny,

All is well. Spending a lot of time cooped up, as most of us are, I imagine. Sorry I ruined your summer. I think I'll be saying that a lot come September, but what was I going to do? Not say anything? Not likely. Frankly, I'm just as glad that I don't have to get out there and make speeches to try and convince everyone he's back. We realize it. Now we just need to kill the tosser.

Sorry about Ron being a beast. Maybe if you feed him a treat and scratch his belly, he'll roll over and make nice. What sort of twisting did you have in mind? I've got a few Jinxes that might do nicely at twisting his insides.

If your brothers want to join the fight, then they should. As long as they know what they're getting themselves into, they should. They know the stories about your Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon? Then it's their informed choice, and Merlin watch over them if they see combat. I think it'd be smarter to finish school and take the N.E.W.T.s, myself, but depending on how they were to go about it, it might not be necessary.

I wish I could get into the fight, but I'm still not trained up enough. I need more knowledge. Compared to Voldemort, I'm just a little kid. I might as well be twelve. Once I get through the O.W.L.s this year, I'll be able to say I've got some sort of small accomplishment. Right now, though, I'm just the Boy Who Lived. I want more than that. I want to be the One Who Defeated Voldemort, and for people to be able to say his name without fear.

On the subject of needing more knowledge, I need to do my reading for Potions. Bye!

Harry

P.S.: I'm a prefect!

* * *

Harry sent the invitations to his birthday party to only a few people. Five boys, six girls, a mixture of fifth and fourth years. Draco, Pansy, Daphne, and Millie were automatic choices. Crabbe and Goyle were a considered decision. Tracy was as well, except in a different way. Laine also deserved an automatic invitation, considering how strong she'd been with him during last year. Ginny was a safe choice as well. If he was inviting Laine, he might as well invite Lucas, and Arcen could come with Millie.

The security had been devised with Marauder trickery. The group would meet briefly at the Three Broomsticks before making the remainder of the trip by secret transportation. They were all going to to be Side-Along Apparated one by one by Sirius, Remus, and Mr. Malfoy into the Shrieking Shack where they had been hard at work to get the place in order.

They were definitely going out of their way to make sure that Harry could have a fun birthday, and Harry appreciated it more than he could ever express with words. Sirius was doing his best to make up for ten years without parties or presents. A whole decade lost and all the fun birthdays of a young child missed. Every party from here on out would be stellar, Sirius had promised.

Harry had no idea what sort of entertainment was planned, and he wouldn't dream of trying to pry it out of Sirius either. The grown-ups were all going to such lengths, it wouldn't properly be fair if he spoiled the surprise.

* * *

Dear Harry,

I think the perfect time for us to set you up with someone will be your birthday party. Several of the potentials will be there, and parties are always good for this sort of thing. That is if you've invited the girl you're interested in. If you haven't done that, you're a few orders of magnitude away from a good Lumos Charm, if you know what I mean. So is it Laine, Daphne, Ginny or me? I should like to break things off with Terry before I entangle myself with you.

I have indeed been practicing my prefect voice! The respect, the esteem, oh, it's absolutely wonderful. I can't wait to give my first detention! I hope Patil isn't one so she can't cancel it.

All the best,

Pansy

Harry read the last two lines of that first paragraph several more times. Surely she wasn't suggesting something. Surely. He wrote back a quick note that he hadn't made up his mind yet on whom he wanted to ask out and sent Regal on his way.

Within minutes, another owl delivered a letter from Tracy. He hoped she didn't react too badly when he asked out whomever he eventually would. It would be nice to be able to think of her as a sister, like he thought of Pansy.

Dear Harry,

Congratulations on being a prefect! I'm not one. I'd hoped. I tried to get the best marks, but there's more to it than that, apparently. Do you know who the other new prefect is?

Have you looked at these new books? The new Defence professor isn't fooling around. This is practically combat training. The Standard Book is pretty interesting too. I'm nearly done with my first read through.

Thanks for the invitation to your birthday party. I'll be there.

All the best,

Tracy

* * *

Dear Harry,

Theo's finally been allowed to leave the hospital wing. Can you imagine two weeks under Madam's thumb without even the normal school stuff to distract her? He's been a brick about the whole thing, I swear. Still hasn't said a word yet. Not to me, not to Professor Snape, and not to Madam. It's the most peculiar thing. He understands us perfectly fine, and he'll nod or shake his head, but he's got nothing to say to us. I've been sitting with him for a few hours every day, and it's really starting to get creepy.

So I never did have the chance to tell you, but I've found this amazing room up on the seventh floor. You've got to do a bit of pacing, but it's so very tally. What's inside depends on what you're thinking when you go in. I've only begun to imagine the possibilities. Imagine bringing a girl up here, for instance. No cramped broom closet or uncomfortable desk in an empty classroom for us! Not anymore! I made the room conjure up this great big four-poster with green and silver sheets! There's a wizard's wireless, plenty of music, lots of soft pillows. I can't wait for classes to start.

Write back soon.

Your best mate,

Draco

Draco's discovery sounded like a lot of fun. What wonderful mysteries there were at Hogwarts!

Harry made sure to give everyone the update on Theo's condition. He was very relieved to hear the good news. He went to find Sirius and found him with Mr. Malfoy in the drawing room.

"Theo's been allowed to leave the hospital wing."

"Good show," Sirius said. "Poor lad."

"I'm impressed at his recovery," Mr. Malfoy said. "I've seen others stronger than he become much less than he after enduring the Cruciatus Curse."

"Counting yourself amongst them?"

"I have tasted it many times under the Dark Lord. Failure was not tolerated."

"Tell me," Harry suddenly requested. "Tell me one of your stories from the war."

Mr. Malfoy drew a deep breath. "I do not like to speak of those days."

"I need to know. What things did he have you do?"

The former Death Eater was silent for a long moment. His eyes grew distant, and Harry wondered if he was going to answer. He finally spoke in a voice that was hollow and dispassionate.

"It was a house where Muggleborns were taking refuge with some sympathetic purebloods. We were to breach the perimeter and capture everyone in the house. Those wizards and witches of pure blood would be given the choice of executing one of the Muggleborns and earning the Dark Lord's pardon. Those who repented would torture those who did not."

"Disgusting," Sirius interjected.

"We Apparated to near the house and from there up to the roof. It should have been a nice, easy insertion followed by a quick spat of fighting on the inside. Should have been. Someone made a mistake. That house was guarded by some very old magic. I had never seen a gargoyle sentry before. I thought it was a simple bit of animation. Never underestimate the stone daemons. He grabbed Milles by the head and just squeezed. His head burst like a melon. It made the same noise too. The thing killed Ghant and Hallion before anyone got a spell off. It took three blasts of the Killing Curse before it crumbled to dust."

"Wow!"

"Absolutely terrifying, that was. Of course the spellwork alerted the other guards. We were overwhelmed. Half of our attack force was dead. The Death Eater in Charge was dead. I ordered the retreat. Only ten of us made it out alive."

"How'd Voldemort take the bad news?"

"Not well. I blacked out several times during my punishment, and he woke me up in order to keep cursing me. I later learned that it had been nearly half a day."

"Yikes," Harry said with a wince.

"So you say. I made my first priority to never go through that again. My second, rather. The first, naturally, being that my family never endures it even once."

* * *

Harry,

Happy early birthday. You figure out a way to stay in top form, or I'll make you wish you were never born.

Cheers,

Miles

Fly outdoors, Harry could not, but indoors? Harry had once observed that the cavernous open space that occupied the centre of the house was not quite suitable to play Quidditch in. Harry had since learned that certain patterns actually took advantage of interior space, patterns that let the rider train for torturous twists and turns that sent blood rushing from his head and his vision down a long tunnel. Struggling, straining, Harry fought his way back to consciousness each time a little quicker.

He wound up unconscious more than a few times as well. Cushioning Charms on the floor and the bannisters helped keep him from harm, but waking up in a pile on the floor next to his broom was more than a little embarassing even without anyone there to see him but Sirius, Remus, and Mr. Malfoy.

Remus found him that particular day. Harry came back to the world with a start. Remus was standing over him, tucking his wand away.

"Having fun, Harry?"

"Practicing," Harry corrected. "Some of these Quidditch routines are ruddy obscene."

"Let's have a cup of tea, shall we?"

Kreacher served tea in the sitting room. Harry picked up his cup and inhaled the aroma of the tea. No cream, no sugar.

"What have you been up to, Remus?"

"Aside from work, you mean?"

"Not that I wouldn't love to hear about how you managed to keep order while dispensing frozen delights to dozens of screaming children, but yes. How's the cute girl you haven't brought around yet?"

Remus smiled. "Perhaps soon. She hasn't even told her parents yet."

"Why don't you tell me about her?"

"Well, she has this great sense of humour. She has a really pretty laugh. She's passionate, loyal, and just wonderful."

"What's she do?"

"Not telling."

"Aww," Harry said, disappointed. "How'd you meet her?"

"Not telling that either. No more questions."

"Okay, I'll stop asking about the girl. I'm really happy you found someone you like."

"Thank you, Harry."

"Is there anything going on with the Order? Anything at all?"

"No, not particularly. I know at some point I will have a very particular mission, but the time is not quite right."

"What's the mission?"

"Werewolves have always been shunned by wizarding society. Many of them aren't magical, you know. Quite a goodly number are Muggles, but they're subject to Ministry jurisdiction, and some of them have quite a problem with that. Voldemort tapped into that resentment in the last war, and a lot of my fellows joined him. Well I went under cover in the werewolf community trying to collect information on bases and hideouts and such. I took up with this really loony woman named Gail who was convinced that Voldemort was going to reward her loyal service by turning her into a witch and giving her a wand."

"Is that even possible?"

"Not so far as we know, but consider first that he was lying to her, and second that she was crazy enough to believe him. She was the ringleader of the gathering cell. I got close to her, got in good with the organization, and then we arranged for her to be picked up by the Muggle authorities. The Order took care of it from there, but I presented myself as the replacement, and suddenly I was responsible for recruiting. Needless to say, I ended up being quite bad at it."

"Naturally."

"Almost abyssmal, really. Why, one might have thought I had no interest in getting anyone to sign on at all."

"How inconceivable."

"I sent all of the key people off on 'secret missions' that would take long periods of time. I intercepted and destroyed communications of orders and plans, faking return post promising compliance."

"Sounds like you did a lot."

"As much as I could. Eventually someone finally got wise to what I was doing. I barely got away with my skin. If it hadn't been for the full moon, I probably wouldn't have. I killed seven Death Eaters during my escape."

"Is that your lucky number?"


	5. It's Hard Being Fifteen

**Chapter Five - It's Hard Being Fifteen**

Harry woke up on the morning of 31 July and immediately began to smile. He was fifteen today. He bounced out of bed and headed for the shower. He took pleasure in his routine, taking his time and giving due diligence to every bit. He broke the steamy air with a sung lyric from Wand Smasher.

"I'm alive and free by the power of the maaaagic! I gather elemental energy on my finger tiiiips! Calling forces unseen, commanding man and machine, I will fly to victory!"

When he was clean and groomed, he returned to his room and got dressed. He ran his fingers through his hair a few times and gave it up in despair. He would fix it before he left the house. He saw his books on the desk, and he smiled again, glad to ignore them for one day at least. Fifteen meant he was going into his fifth year at school, with the O.W.L. examinations awaiting him at the end. He had been trying very hard not to think too much about those. He'd chipped away slowly at the stack of homework, but it was very intimidating. He despaired of ever satisfying McGonagall's assignment. He'd poked through several books in the Black family library to help write several of his essays. There would be no homework for him today. Today was a day to celebrate and be with people he cared about. He shoved all thoughts of his assignments out of his mind. Harry left his bedroom and headed downstairs with a spring in his step. He couldn't wait for the party to get started.

Sirius, Remus, and Mr. Malfoy were already waiting for him when he got to the dining room.

"Happy birthday, Harry!"

"Thanks, Sirius."

"Take a seat. Kreacher's been hard at work since the crack of dawn. I hope you're hungry."

"Starving."

Harry was fifteen. He was always starving. He sat down in his chair.

Without warning, there was a tremendous explosion! Red and gold smoke filled the air around him! Harry flinched away, reaching for his wand. As the smoke curled up to the ceiling, silver and green confetti began raining down. A prank?

"Happy birthday!"

Kreacher appeared with a bang and set a golden plate in front of Harry. A stack of seven enormous pancakes was decorated with fifteen candles made of butter.

Harry waited until they were finished singing the birthday song to let the butter melt. He picked up the bottle of syrup and doused the magical flames. He picked up his fork and began to eat.

"This is delicious," he said between mouthfuls. Kreacher's buttermilk pancakes were fluffy and heavenly. They practically melted into his tongue.

Kreacher brought back another golden platter of pancakes for Sirius, Remus, and Mr. Malfoy.

During breakfast, many owls arrived from people Harry hadn't invited to his birthday party. He was quite gratified that the Head of the Department of Intermagical Cooperation himself had deigned to send a card. Then again, Percy Weasley was a stickler for formality.

Harry opened one card and was treated to the chorus from Christinia Drade's song _Portrait_.

"Age another year, add another layer, to the painting that becomes, the portrait of your life..."

Dear Harry,

Happy birthday! I wish I could be there this year, but with all the new security, I'm not surprised I didn't get an invitation. I hope you manage to have some fun. See you in the fall!

Hannah

"Clever bit of magic," Sirius observed. "Can it be shut off?"

"I think if I close the card."

It worked. The song ceased abruptly once the card was shut. Harry stuffed it back in the envelope so it wouldn't accidentally go off again.

"Which of your girlfriends was that from, Harry?" Remus asked.

"Hannah Abbott."

"Which one is Hannah again?" Sirius asked.

"Blonde. Hufflepuff. Legs."

"Right, right. She's the swimmer, yes? Too bad you didn't invite her to the pool party."

"Too many people. Gotta draw the line somewhere."

"I know, Harry, I know. I'm sorry about this."

"It's better than nothing," Harry said, keeping positive. "I've had nothing before. Trust me, this is better."

"Muggles," Mr. Malfoy muttered.

"Not today, Lucius," Sirius said warningly.

"That goes for you too, Sirius," Mr. Malfoy replied.

"It goes for both of you," Remus said firmly. "This is Harry's day, and you're not going to ruin it for him by bickering pointlessly."

"Of course, Remus," Sirius said. "Everything's fine."

Another owl arrived at that moment, and it turned out to be a card from Susan Bones.

Dear Harry,

I hope you get lots of galactic gifts. Happy birthday from me and Aunt Amelia!

Susan

"Who this time?" Sirius asked.

"Susan Bones."

"Her, I remember. Blonde as well, yes?"

"Yes."

"Braided. Hufflepuff. Director Bones' niece."

"The same."

"Got a thing for Hufflepuffs, eh, Harry?" Sirius said with a wink.

"I find Hufflepuffs to be very nice people."

"That they are."

After breakfast, Harry went back up to his room and checked his appearance in the mirror. His hair was still messy, but there was seldom anything he could do about it. It had settled down a bit once he'd begun his Animagus training, but today the comb was less than useless. Every time he tried to flatten his hair, it popped right back up again.

Frustrated, Harry threw the comb across the room. _I wonder if Dad ever had this problem?_

Looking as neat as it were possible under the circumstances, Harry headed back downstairs to the sitting room. Sirius, Remus, and Mr. Malfoy were waiting for him.

"Ready to go?" Sirius asked.

"I am. Shall we?"

"We shall."

Harry took Sirius' arm, and with a _pop!_ they Disapparated.

They arrived in the alley behind the Three Broomsticks. Empty wooden crates and large barrels were scattered haphazardly. A collection of green glass bottles accumulated by a red-painted door with a sign reading "Staff Only".

Remus and Mr. Malfoy appeared a second later. Both men had their wands out, just in case of trouble. It never hurt to be too careful. _Constant vigilance!_ They poked their heads out around the corner. Nothing untoward was discovered in the streets of Hogsmeade, and the four men quickly made for the front door.

Mrs. Malfoy was already waiting for them. So were most of the guests. The invitations had said to meet in the Three Broomsticks at noon. Apparently everyone had decided to be fashionably early.

The first person he saw was Daphne, and her customary crooked smile was firmly in place. She had worn a light, airy, silver robe over a white shirt. Her smooth legs poked out from a skirt that stopped well above her knees.

"If anyone could figure out how to have a party in the middle of a lockdown, I might have known it would be you, Harry," she said with a smirk. "Where is this mysterious place? Not here, certainly."

"Nope. Top secret. We'll be using a secret method to get there, too. Once everybody's here, I'll explain."

"Well how many people did you invite?"

"Only a few. Actually, I think everyone is here. I missed Millie there behind Crabbe."

"Well that's understandable. You could miss half the planet behind Crabbe."

"Daphne!" Harry said with a laugh. "Be nice."

"I am being nice!"

Harry stepped closer to the rest of the gang.

"Thanks for coming, everyone. To maintain security while we're all gathered together, we're going to be going to an undisclosed location. One by one, you'll all step into the back room there, and we'll go. I'll be on the other side to meet you."

"How mysterious," Ginny observed slyly, "and how very Slytherin of you to play it up."

Harry bowed slightly, earning him a laugh from Pansy, Daphne, and Laine.

"Up Slytherin!" Draco cheered.

"Up Slytherin!" echoed Arcen and Lucas.

Harry followed Sirius into the back room and closed the door behind him.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

With a _pop!_ they Disapparated.

Harry had all he could to not fall down when they reached the inside of the Shrieking Shack. He steadied himself by grabbing Sirius' arm. Though he was gradually becoming accustomed to that mode of travel, two Apparitions in such close proximity had left him dizzy. Thankfully they were going to be here for awhile.

"I'll be right back."

Sure enough, he was, in no time at all. He brought Pansy with him.

Pansy looked completely non-plused after being Side-Along Apparated. She had gone without a robe today, wearing a fancy summer dress of pale blue. She'd chosen dangly gold earrings, rather than the Slytherin silver she usually favoured.

"How do you manage to always look like you just got done doing your hair?" he asked.

"Because I know secrets to hair styling that have nothing to do with magic."

"I guess so." Pansy's black hair was quite long, nearly to her waist. She hadn't cut it once since first year. It was always shiny and immaculate, yet she was never seen brushing at it between classes like many girls.

Harry spoke without considering his words. "You look great."

Pansy blushed. "Thank you. I hope you're not actually planning to ask me out."

"I might," he bantered. "What would you say if I did?"

"Honestly, I don't know." Pansy gave Harry a once-over, as though seriously considering him for the first time.

She could offer no further insight, as Draco was the next arrival. He was smartly dressed in a grey robe, buttoned up the front.

"Hi, Draco."

"Hi, Harry." Draco looked around. "Where are we?"

"The Shrieking Shack."

"Brilliant. This ought to be smashing good fun. Father's told me about some of the preparations."

"Draco, will you shut up about your father?" Pansy asked with exasperation. "Honestly. We're so tired of it. Can't you do anything on your own?"

"Actually, Pansy, I can, but I'm certainly not going to tell you about it."

"A likely story."

"Hey!" Harry protested. "Will you stop? Both of you? I don't want my birthday ruined by some pointless bickering."

"Of course, Harry," Pansy said immediately. "I'm so very sorry." She turned to Draco. "Hear that, Draco? Harry wants you to stop being a prat."

"Hey!"

Daphne's arrival precluded any further argument.

"Well, that's it for me," Sirius said. He was breathing heavy. "I think I can manage to get out, but I should rest before coming back."

"Don't Splinch yourself."

"Never."

These four Slytherins had been amazingly tight during the last school year. No matter where Harry went in the castle, Pansy, Daphne, and Draco had been with him. He had needed their support when everyone had been convinced that Harry had used some cunning trick to get himself into the Triwizard Tournament. Later, when the deadly nature of the Tasks had been revealed, the animosity had died down a bit, but they'd still stuck with him - true friends he could not have been more grateful for.

Remus was the next to start bringing in Harry's guests. His first passenger was Tracy. Despite himself, Harry couldn't help but notice how pretty Tracy looked. Her blonde hair was wavy, and she'd pulled it back out of her face. She'd done her makeup subtly, emphasizing her brilliant blue eyes.

"Hey, Tracy. Glad you could make it."

"Wouldn't miss it, Harry. Thanks for inviting me."

There had been problems with Tracy last year. She and Harry had dated briefly during third year, but Harry had decided he just wanted to be friends. He'd spent all of fourth year trying to discourage her, and she'd been incredibly thick about the whole thing. Now it all seemed to have passed, and Harry was glad to have his friend back.

Millie's arrival was punctuated by a few clumsy steps and a fall. She toppled a chair, swearing as good as any boy. The tomboy normally discounted fancy clothing, and today was no different. She wore a plain black robe, no makeup, and had her limp brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail.

"All right, Millie?" Harry inquired.

"Bloody knee," she hissed, nursing that body part. "Wow, that hurts."

"Gotta be careful."

It had been a considered decision to invite Crabbe and Goyle. Their allegiences were still in question, and only by the secret nature of this very clandestine party were they allowed to be in such close proximity to Harry. They'd sworn not to try to kill him at the end of fourth year, their wands proving the truth of the oath, but the Imperius Curse could warp the mind of any wizard who succumbed to its insidious power. The behemoths had been absolute rubbish at resisting the curse, and that worried Harry greatly. He wanted his friends to fight by his side, and hopefully today's festivities would help them realize that it was far better than kissing the feet of Voldemort.

Remus was breathing heavy. "I think that's all for me. I'm going to pop back and tell the others."

Remus managed to bring himself back to the Shrieking Shack, though he immediately collapsed into a chair.

"Remus? Are you all right?"

"I will be, Harry. I'm just very tired."

The next ferryman was Mr. Malfoy, who arrived with Laine in tow. She was a year behind Harry in school, but she was as close as any of his other friends. She had a crush on him, but she still managed to behave with decorum. During the tournament, she'd helped him put together a plan for dealing with obnoxious inquiries and had acted as his public relations agent. Her sunny smile always buoyed his spirits.

"Hi, Laine."

"This looks to be quite a good time. I'm glad we were finally able to get out of the house."

"I know what you mean."

"It's crazy, isn't it?" Daphne asked. "I couldn't even go to Diagon Alley to get my books. Mum insisted that we send the order in by owl. She took all my measurements and sent the numbers to Madam Malkin. I do _not_ want to think about how poorly my robes are going to fit this year."

"She's really paranoid, isn't she?" Harry said.

Daphne snorted rudely. "Paranoid doesn't even begin to cover it. I wouldn't be surprised if she tries to get the family out of the country. So far, Dad's been able to keep her from hysterics, but it's only a matter of time."

"Why's she so scared?"

"I really don't know. She flat-out refuses to talk about it to me or with Dad. He's trying to play it cool, but he's starting to get annoyed."

Ginny was the next to be delivered. Her red hair, which she usually wore in a tumbled fashion, had been neatly styled. Her warm brown eyes were a bit unfocused after the Side-Along, but she recovered quickly. She wore a simple green and white dress with a flowered print that modestly covered her knees.

"Ginny, thanks for coming."

"Wouldn't miss it, Harry. This is great fun," Ginny said, "and my parents don't even know I'm here."

"What?" Pansy exclaimed. "Where do they think you are?"

"Ginny's parents think she's at my house," Laine answered.

"How did you get permission to visit?" Pansy demanded.

"My father works at the Ministry. So does Mister Slater."

"Oh that's infuriating."

"Dad's trying to make a move with the new Ministry attitude being the way it is. If he can find a way to be useful, he can get out of the Centaur Office. So he lets me visit with Laine."

"I think she's just got a crush on my brother," Laine said slyly. "She thinks Lucas is_cute_."

Ginny laughed. "I didn't say that."

"No, you only wanted to know if he thought _you_ were cute."

"Laine!"

The aforementioned Lucas was their next arrival. Though he'd been indistinguishable from his sister when they'd first been Sorted, he'd managed to become his own person. He'd finally convinced his parents to let him cut his hair, and now he kept it very short indeed. Despite it being summer, he wore a long-sleeved black robe.

"Aren't you hot in that thing?" Harry asked curiously.

"Not really. It's Indian silk."

"Very nice," Draco commented. "Father does quite a bit of business in India. Silk is on the expensive side."

"It certainly is. This was a gift from my grandfather when he died."

"I didn't get anything nearly so nice," Laine said without any bitterness, "but when grandmother passed on, she left me all her jewelry."

"So it evens out," Lucas said.

Arcen was the last guest. Millie's little brother didn't have anywhere near the disregard for appearances that she did. He was neatly groomed, with his brown hair combed flat on his head.

"Hey, all. Are we having fun yet?"

"Very soon," Harry promised. "We just need to get the rest of the adults here."

"I'll be right back," Mr. Malfoy said. With a _pop!_, he Disapparated.

To Harry's surprise, it was Mrs. Malfoy who brought Sirius. Mr. Malfoy appeared a moment later.

"See, Lucius, I am perfectly capable."

"You are a stubborn woman."

"Yes, I am, and you are a stubborn man."

Just then, the trap door in the middle of the room opened up and out crawled Theo Nott. He looked around at everyone, shrugged out of his cloak, and wandered out of the room in an apparent search for the cloakroom.

"Welcome to the party!" Sirius said loudly. "We have lots of food, we'll have the cake in a couple of hours, and the pool is right down that hall. Changing rooms are set up and everything."

"Wicked," Lucas said to Arcen.

"I know where I'm going," Pansy declared. "Daphne?"

"Absolutely." The two girls headed for the changing room. All the other kids were hot on their heels.

Harry was already wearing his swim trunks under his robes, so he shucked his clothes quickly and went directly to poolside. The adults hadn't transformed the room into a pool area; they'd simply cleared the room and flooded it. The water stopped abruptly at the doorway, about neck height.

"That's pretty tricky," Draco said admiringly. "Smashing idea."

There was perhaps no better way to get in than by running at the wall of water and diving head-first. Harry looked at Draco.

"Let's do it."

The water was delightfully warm. It felt as though the pool had been sitting under the summer sun for a week. Harry's exposure to swimming pools was somewhat limited. There was a pool at Malfoy Manor, but Harry and Draco were most often more interested in playing Quidditch. He'd gone swimming last summer with Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott at Hannah's house, but just the once.

"Not being able to go outside is an arduous hardship," Draco said. "I've been going down to the pool every day. It's quite a lot of fun, actually. I lift weights, I have a soak in the hot tub, and then do some laps."

It showed. Draco had always been thin, but his frame was buffing up nicely with all the weight-lifting he'd done over the past year and a half. There wasn't an ounce of fat on him.

"Lucky. I've had to just hit the bath when Sirius and I get done lifting."

"You been lifting every day?"

"Yeah. Does it show?"

"A bit, yeah."

"Good."

Theo emerged from the changing room, followed by Goyle and Crabbe. He was skinny and pale. He had scorned to join the others at the weight-lifting, what he termed a Muggle activity. He seemed even smaller, then, by comparison to Crabbe and Goyle. Those boys had always been big, but now they were muscular. Neither of them had what could properly be termed a neck. They had immediately jumped at the invitation to lift weights with Harry and Draco. Now their efforts had paid off. As big as they were, they were the only potential Beaters Harry could think of for the upcoming Quidditch season.

"Hey, Theo," Harry said. "Thanks for coming."

Theo didn't reply. He looked at Harry for several long seconds, his eyes empty. He turned away and waded into the water.

"Quiet, much?" Draco said.

"I'm surprised he's here at all," Harry replied. "After what he's been through? I can't even imagine."

"Me either. I don't know what to say to him. I don't know how to help him."

"Me either. Sirius said just to be there for him. So I invited him."

"He came. It's a start."

"What's a start?" Pansy asked from behind them.

Harry turned around and felt his eyes go wide. The girls had all changed into their swimsuits, and it seemed all he could see was naked flesh.

Standing in front of the group was Pansy, the most daring in a brilliant blue bikini. She had figured out some way to tan as well. Daphne had probably shared her invention with her best friend. Pansy looked fantastic, and from her poise, she knew it. She had braided her black hair up to keep it out of the water.

Daphne's blonde hair had been further bleached with all her sun exposure and was now very pale. Her tan was very dark, and the contrast with her skimpy pink one-piece was striking. For all the skin she was showing, it might as well have been a bikini. Harry had to tear his eyes away from her.

Millie wore a boring black tank suit. She generally didn't care for what she was wearing, and this was no different. She had taken her brown hair out of the simple ponytail, and it hung limply to her shoulders.

Tracy did care how she looked, and Harry had to admit she looked good. Her choice of a white one-piece worked. The front was decorated with a twisted black line that drew the eyes in. She'd done some fancy magic on her blonde hair, because now it was up and piled on her head like a beehive. It might have looked silly on a lot of girls, but not on Tracy. Woven with magic, it was much more grand than any Muggle could achieve.

Standing next to Pansy was Laine. She may have been a year behind the other girls, but she still looked very appealing in a purple swimsuit with sequins and designs on the front. It was a bold bit of work, consisting of only a front and a back, held together by strings at the neck, chest, and waist. Laine was slender and leggy. Her auburn hair was pulled up to keep it out of the water. Harry couldn't look away from her either. He'd seen the girls in his form change on the train before, but he'd never seen Laine's skin. She wasn't pale, per se, but she had nowhere near the sun exposure of the older girls.

Ginny was a redhead, and she had the typical fair skin that went with it. She'd gotten a bit of sun, and freckles had broken out all over her cheeks and shoulders. She looked a bit like a rose with her green swimsuit. It was a conservative one-piece, covering all of her chest and tying behind the neck.

"What's a start?" Pansy asked again. The boys had both been oogling the girls.

"Theo," Harry said, wrenching his eyes back to Pansy's face. "He's here."

"I admit, I'm surprised to see him. His father decide to turn against You-Know-Who, then?"

Harry and Draco exchanged a long glance. Harry shook his head slightly.

"No, but Theo did," was all he said, "and he's not dealing with it well. So I'm going to ask that nobody ask him about it. Let him come to us. There's more going on than you're aware, and it's not our place to say. Please just give him space and don't give him any grief. He'll tell you when he's ready."

"It's all solemn and such," Pansy observed.

"I'm being absolutely sincere."

"Okay, then. It'll be hard, but I'll do it."

"Thank you, Pansy."

"Is the water warm?"

"Find out for yourself," Draco needled her.

"Draco, if I can't abuse Theo, who do you think is going to take his place?"

"You already abuse me."

"I know, Draco. I know." Pansy had a bit of an evil smile when she wanted to. Not on the best of terms with Draco since the Yule Ball disaster when he had broken up with her to ask out Parvati Patil, they had maintained a frosty tolerance of each other. She was always quick to make sly comments about Draco or his character or his habits. It was much as she always had done with Theo.

"Daphne, see if the water's warm," Pansy said.

"Tracy, see if the water's warm," Daphne redirected.

"You two are so chicken," Tracy said flippantly. She stepped forward and poked one foot into the wall of water. "Ooh, it's great!" she said and got right in.

Pansy followed, then Daphne, Laine, Ginny, and Millie. Arcen and Lucas had yet to emerge from the changing room.

"Oh, this is fantastic," Pansy gushed. "What a wonderful idea. Harry, your godfather is a genius."

"Yes, he is."

"Anyone read the Prophet this morning?" she said.

No one had.

"There's more scandal with Gilderoy Lockhart."

"Oh no," Daphne said. "What's he done now?"

"He was found in _flagrante delicto_ with the Spanish Mistress of Magic."

"He wasn't!"

"Oh yes."

"I can't believe no country has been willing to send him back so he can be properly arrested."

"The man's a disgrace," Harry said. "I bet they're all pointing at him and laughing at all Britons."

"Probably. He humiliates us all," Daphne agreed.

Eventually Arcen and Lucas joined them.

"What took you so long?" Daphne asked sassily.

"So are we doing anything, or are we just sitting here?" Lucas asked.

"I suppose we could play a game. Perhaps we could have a competition. It wouldn't be a true Slytherin party without some sort of competition."

"We could do some races. Who's fastest to do so many lengths of the room, and so on," Harry suggested.

"Sounds good. Let's do it."

There were six girls and six boys, not counting Theo, who sat by himself in the corner of the pool. The boys insisted on being the first to race. They lined up against the wall. The first to go the length of the room and back would be the winner.

"Ready?" Pansy called out. "Set. Go!"

Harry kicked off from the wall with a surge and began flailing mightily with his arms and kicking with his legs. He clawed his way through the water, not really knowing the tricks of how to go for distance with minimal effort. He made a great deal of splash and noise, but he'd never had any instruction on his form. He made progress through the water, but was quickly outdistanced by the others. Harry tried his best, but he was a mediocre swimmer at best. He'd gotten through the Second Task, but he still didn't really know what he was doing.

Draco won the race, a combination of strong strokes and good technique. Goyle and Crabbe were both big and lumbering in the water, while Arcen and Lucas were still growing into their bodies.

Then it was the girls' turn to race.

"Let's go!" Millie said, hurrying to the starting point.

"No, I think I'm just going to lounge," Pansy declared. "Maybe do a few slow laps later."

"I'll join you," Daphne said. "The only thing we're missing in here is an artificial sun."

"The window seat will do," Laine suggested.

"Yes, it's perfect," Pansy said.

Pansy and Daphne moved towards the windowseat. Laine looked back as Ginny hesitated.

"Come on, Ginny."

"But-" The redhead looked longingly at the starting line where Millie was standing with her arms folded across her chest.

"Ginny!" Laine hissed. "What are you waiting for? We are hanging out with the older girls!"

"But I wanted to race."

"You'd rather race than sit with Pansy Parkinson?" Laine sounded like she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"So we can gossip about stupid stuff? I can only take so much of that."

"You think Pansy is going to talk celebrity scandals with a war on? Ginny, wake up. She's going to want to know where our families and our friends' families stand. You _have_ been asking questions, I suppose?"

Ginny scowled. "Nobody will tell me anything. Dad says he doesn't know why anyone in the Ministry would listen to a thing he said and that nobody has anything to say to him. I still don't even know how come Charlie is home. He won't answer any questions. When pressed, he just asks Mum if she's glad to see him, and she goes all to pieces. Bloody unfair."

"What of your brothers? Surely they've been in communication with their friends?"

"Well yes, but-"

"You at least know who? You have a good feel for your brothers, yes? Then Pansy will want to know. She'll put it all together. Now come on!"

Ginny let herself be dragged away as Pansy glanced at Laine inquisitively.

As none of the girls other than Millie wanted to race, the boys got to go again. She joined them. The girls remained in the nook under the window, basking in the sunlight that streamed through the glass.

Harry did a few more races, and when he tired, he leaned against the wall and watched the others. Draco and Millie continued to dominate. Harry's attention wandered over to the girls. They weren't even watching the racing. They were talking amongst themselves.

Draco won again, got two up on Millie, and decided to retire. He waved the others on to one more race and leaned up against the wall next to Harry. Millie went and joined the girls at the window.

"So here's what we do," Draco said quietly, even though the girls were metres away. "We swim slowly under the water, sneak up on the girls, and grab them."

"Sounds smashing. They'll scream."

"That's the whole point."

"Hang on," Harry said. He ducked back into the changing room and fished his wand out of his pocket. He surreptitiously slipped back into the water. The girls hadn't noticed him leave. "This will help."

The Bubblehead Charm was something Harry had first learned while pursuing solutions to the Second Task.

"Let's go. Slowly now."

It was almost too easy. Harry glanced up and realized the legs in front of him belonged to Ginny. He admired them for a moment and checked to see if Draco was in position. He'd targeted Tracy.

Now!

Twin shrieks of surprise rang in the room as Ginny and Tracy were both yanked under. Quickly the boys grabbed for more legs, sending Pansy, Daphne, and Laine beneath the surface. Millie, however, lashed out with a foot and caught Draco square in the face.

"Ow!" he howled, clutching at his nose. His voice was distorted by the water. "I think you broke my nose!"

"Malfoy!" Millie yelled. "What are you doing?"

Draco emerged from the water. The bubble dissolved. "I'm being injured, I am."

"I'm being attacked!"

He gingerly touched his nose. His fingers came away red with blood. "I'm bleeding! Look at this!"

Now the other girls had finished sputtering and coughing.

"Malfoy!" "Potter!"

"Get them!"

Harry dove under the surface again and swam as fast as he could. It was not fast enough. Daphne, Ginny, and Laine caught him. They dragged him back to where Millie had Draco's arm twisted behind his head and Pansy was glaring at him as water dripped out of her hair. Tracy looked like she was ready to slug Draco, and her runny makeup made her look downright scary. Draco looked like he didn't need any more punishment; his nose dripped blood.

"Which one of you morons thought that would be funny?" Pansy demanded.

Harry and Draco remained silent.

"I see. Very well, then, we'll just have to hurt you both."

"Do your worst," Draco said bravely, which was amazing considering he was dripping blood.

"You couldn't handle my worst. Somehow I think this was your idea."

"Now that's just not fair."

"Harry is a caring, sensitive boy who occasionally listens to a first-class, grade-A prat named Malfoy. He would never come up with a dastardly plan like that," Tracy declared.

"I'll be leaving, then," Harry suggested.

"Oh no," Daphne said quickly. "You still took part. You're going to be punished, just not as bad."

"Draco gets stuck to the wall," Pansy decided. "Somebody good at Charms go get your wand. As for Harry?" she considered, one finger pressed against her cheek in thought. "The punishment must fit the crime. You want to tease girls? You want to act like bad boys and try to get us to pay attention to you? You want to act flirty and make a move? Granted. Your punishment is kisses."

"What?" Harry exclaimed.

"Kisses," said Daphne. "How perfect."

"One good solid smooch each, I'd say," Pansy considered.

"This is insane. Let go of me immediately. I'm- I'm a prefect, and I'm going to give you all detention!"

"I'm a prefect too, Harry," Pansy said with a wide smirk, "and I nullify your detentions. You're not getting out of this one. Me first."

"Pansy?" Harry said, starting to feel a little panicked. "Pansy, what are you doing? What about Terry? You're not going to really kiss me, are you?"

Yes, she really was.

Pansy put her hands on either side of his face and pulled his head down. Their lips met, and for a moment the world stopped.

"Happy birthday," Pansy said breathily as she let go of him.

Harry's face was flaming red. Oh, he was embarassed. Before he could even begin to process having kissed - been kissed - by Pansy, another girl leaned towards him.

"Daphne?"

Harry's coffee date had kissed him once before. She'd learned a lot since then. When she was done, Harry was breathless. Merlin help him, he wanted that kiss to go on.

"If Viktor finds out I was kissing Harry, he probably wouldn't be too happy. I'll pass."

"It's all in good fun, Millie," Pansy said, still smiling broadly.

"Is that what you plan to tell Terry?"

"Yes, actually. If I have to. I wasn't actually planning on letting him find out."

Tracy looked at Harry very longingly, but she turned away without a word.

Laine and Ginny were the last two girls left. Ginny gestured towards Harry. "You first," she said.

"I think not," she said primly. "Go ahead if you want to, but I am not going to throw myself at Harry just because he's landed himself in a spot of trouble."

Ginny shrugged. She looked at Harry and began to blush. "It's all in good fun," she said. She pecked him lightly on the lips. "Happy birthday."

"Here, what's all this then?" Goyle and the other boys were done with laps.

"Nothing at all. Just a little playing around."

"Why does Mils have Draco in an armlock?"

"Why _shouldn't_ Mils have Draco in an armlock?" Pansy retorted.

Goyle stopped to think about that, and he kept thinking.

"Don't let him hurt himself," Harry requested, his wits still scattered. His vision was still spinning. Wow.

Daphne laughed. "Quick, show him some food."

"Is there food?" Crabbe piped up. "I'm hungry."

"Naturally, fathead. Yes, I think there's food. Right, Harry?"

"Yes. I'm hungry too."

"Hang on, we still have to stick Draco to the wall," Pansy said.

But they didn't.

Everyone made for the changing rooms to towel off and put on clothing again.

"Well, that was good fun," Lucas said. "What did you guys do?"

"We dunked them," Draco replied. "Swam under the water and pulled them down."

"I can't believe you did that to Millie," Arcen chuckled, shaking his head. "No wonder she nearly ripped your arm off."

"So why was Ginny kissing Harry?" Lucas wanted to know. "That doesn't make sense. You made a girl's head go under water, ruin her make-up, wreck her hair, and she kisses you?"

Harry felt himself start to blush a bit. When one considered it like that, it sounded awful. It didn't sound much better when one looked at the truth from his perspective.

"Blame Pansy for that one," Harry said. "She decided that we'd done what we did because we were being saucy with them. Then she declared that my punishment was to get exactly what I'd wanted."

"I can't believe she kissed you," Draco said, shaking his head. "First she takes up with Terry; now she's snogging my best mate. The girl hates me."

"You did bunk it up pretty badly," Harry told him. "Asking out her worst enemy just to make a point was over the line, and you knew it."

"She made me crazy. What else can I say? She wouldn't let up about the damned ball, not once asking me what I thought about any of it. That's not right."

"You still didn't have to ask Parvati."

"You're the one who gave me the idea."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Whatever. It was fun while it lasted, but now you've got to deal with how you treated Pansy.

"Well, won't that be fun," Draco grumbled, moving his arm around to stretch the shoulder he'd had wrenched for him.

"It has been for me so far," Harry said, lightly mocking. "I think I'm still dizzy."

"Pansy _and_ Daphne," Draco exclaimed. "This is reminding me of that Christmas party at Greengrass's house when you were snogging with Daphne and Laine."

"What!" Lucas burst out. "You snogged my sister two years ago!"

"More like she snogged me," Harry defended. "I accidentally stood under some mistletoe, and she caught me."

"I don't know how he does it," Draco said deploringly, "but girls just throw themselves at Harry."

"Famous git," Arcen muttered.

Draco kept going. "Look at that classmate of yours, Lucas, who burned all of her standing just to have half a night with him."

"Michelle?"

"Yeah. Your sister was not pleased with that little stunt."

"I think she even got some of the upper year students to hex her," Arcen contributed, being careless with his pronouns.

"Laine had Michelle _hexed_?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"I'm surprised she hasn't been forced to leave school," Lucas said. "Laine didn't take the stab in the back lightly."

Harry knew about Laine's romantic interest in him, but he'd tried to keep from acknowledging it while avoiding Tracy and asking out Padma. She hadn't pushed the issue, and they'd been able to maintain a friendship. While Harry knew Laine had stopped talking to Michelle and encouraged others to do the same, he hadn't known about the hexing.

"It's not like I go looking for this."

"I know, mate, I know," Draco said with a sigh. "That's what makes it all the worse."

"But she didn't take advantage of the situation just now," Harry mused, suddenly thoughtful.

"Yeah, but Ginny sure did." Draco snickered. "Oh, wait until I tell Weasel about this."

"Don't you dare," Harry ordered. "I'm the one who gets to do it."

They had finished dressing by now. In the corridor they met the girls, and everyone headed for the dining room.

Sirius, Remus, and Mrs. Malfoy were sitting at the dining room table.

"Where did Father go?"

"He could not remain without endangering us. He returned to the House of Black."

Mr. Malfoy had left in order to not draw the attention of Voldemort to the party. Whenever he remained in one place for too long, Death Eaters would show up and attempt to kill him. It was hard to have to Apparate every thirty-three minutes. Mr. Malfoy was safe only so long as he remained under a Fidelius Charm or at Hogwarts where the protections were ancient and powerful.

"But he did request that we all have a good time anyway," Remus said. "What happened to your nose?"

"Ran into a wall."

"A wall named Millie," Arcen said with a snicker.

"Come here, Draco," Remus said. He drew his wand. "_Episkey!_"

Draco yelped, but he touched his nose with both hands. There was no blood. "It's fixed!" he said with amazement. "I'm not bleeding!"

"Quite a handy little spell, that."

Kreacher had outdone himself with the food again. All of Harry's favourites were present. There were several courses, and everything tasted so _good_. Harry ate and ate, wondering how he was packing it all away. Crabbe and Goyle, naturally, consumed enough to feed a small army. Kreacher beamed as he filled the serving plates again and again.

After everyone had finished eating, Harry opened his presents. His friends had been both thoughtful and appropriate. There were the usual clothes from parents, music crystals from the lads, and assorted books and such from the ladies. He particularly liked the emerald cufflinks that came from the Malfoys. He didn't know when his next occasion to get up fancy would be, but he would be dressed to impress.

"Thank you, everyone," he said sincerely.

When all the presents were opened, admired, and appreciated, it was time for dessert. The birthday cake was magnificent. Seven layers and filled with custard, jam, and Butterbeer.

"I shouldn't be having any of this," Tracy said to Millie, "but I can't stop myself."

"Oh, stop complaining about your figure and enjoy it," Millie replied, stuffing a huge bite in her mouth. "If you can't stop, you might as well not feel guilty about it."

After the cake was finished, the hour had grown somewhat late. Dusk was the new curfew the Ministry had established. It was time to start heading back to town. One by one, Harry's guests were Side-Along Apparated back to Hogsmeade. Harry said goodbye to each as they left.

Draco and his mother left. Finally it was only Sirius, Remus, and Harry.

"Well, back home, then?" Sirius asked.

"Yes. I had a good time. Thank you."

"Our pleasure, Harry," Remus said. "It was fun."

They returned to Grimmauld Place. Mr. Malfoy was in the sitting room reading the newspaper.

"How did it go?" he asked.

"Delightful. Thank you again for helping to make it possible."

"My pleasure, Harry. There's another present for you from Elan. I put it in your room."

Harry found the box on his bed. It was wrapped in shiny green paper and tied with a dark green ribbon. Harry untied the ribbon and tore off the paper. Inside he found a magnificent mirror with an elaborately decorated frame. Though he had a functional mirror, this one tilted and swivelled to show him all kinds of angles. What a great present! He immediately set it on his dresser and admired it.

"Hello, there!"

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Who's there?"

"I am Shoshi, your Reflective Friend. I am here to provide the pinacle of fashion advice and help you look your absolute best to the rest of the world. What is your name, friend?"

Harry felt a little weirded by a talking mirror. He had a sudden strong reminder of Tom Riddle's diary.

"My name is Harry Potter."

"It is a pleasure to serve you, Harry Potter. Now, present your wardrobe for me."

Any suspicion that this might be another evil artefact vanished as Harry was made to show every single piece of clothing he owned to the mirror. Thankfully, Harry had managed to master the Levitation Charms suitable for this task. The whole task took nearly an hour.

"Well," the mirror declared. "I've seen worse."

"Weren't you brand new?"

"Yes, but it's- Do you really want the technical details?"

"Not really."

"Then trust me, dear, I've seen worse. Looking at you, hrmm. Well, I can work with it. Take off those robes for me."

"What?!" Harry blushed to the roots of his hair. "I'm not taking off my robes."

"I need to see your frame. Robes cover up a lot. If I am to do my job properly, I need to see what I'm working with."

_It's only a mirror,_ Harry told himself as he slowly pulled off the robes he'd worn to his party. _It's only a magic mirror, not a real girl._

"Well, not bad at all," the mirror said somewhat admiringly. "Very muscular. You lift weights."

"How can you tell?"

"Harry, I am a Reflective Friend. I am a top-line magical mirror. It's what I do. Now, tell me about your social life."

Harry groaned and wondered if Elan secretly hated him.


	6. Mammals

**Chapter Six - Mammals**

It had been ten days since Harry's birthday party. In less than a month, he would return to school. One day passed much like another with his homework, his lessons, meal times, mild bickering between Sirius and Mr. Malfoy, and exchanging complaints of boredom via owl with his friends. All had been tranquil. Everything had been strictly routine. The summer had been quiet. Too quiet.

Azkaban was still in Voldemort's hands, and that could not be allowed to stand. Every so often there would be an attack, and the morning Daily Prophet would contain the names of those who had disappeared in the night. It was no secret that they were likely spirited away to Azkaban to be incarcerated and broken. The useful ones, that is; the purebloods. The impure were simply murdered. Harry read every name, promising that someday Voldemort would answer for each witch or wizard killed.

There were no more meetings of the Order of the Phoenix, at least none that Harry was told about. Sirius might have been sneaking out after Harry went to bed, but from his general attitude whenever the subject was brought up, Harry didn't think it likely. Sirius, like Harry, wanted to do something. He tried to pretend that all they could do was to get Harry's skills as sharp as possible, but it was plain that he wanted to be more active. Being confined to the house for the summer was as frustrating for him as it was for Harry.

Animagus practice had become a nightly thing with Harry. He was nearly the Master of his form. He was very busy during the days now with Apparition lessons, homework, and weight-lifting, but the most difficult part of his change was sleeping while transformed. Harry never woke up when he changed back, but he hoped he was lasting longer on each successive attempt. A couple of nights he'd tried to stay awake the whole time, but he'd been so groggy at Apparition lessons that he'd Splinched himself twice more. Looking down and seeing his hand missing had been bad enough. Losing his whole arm - his wand arm at that! - was truly horrifying. It was an experience he never wanted to go through again.

Apparition lessons had been going for just over three weeks, and neither Harry nor Draco had managed to get it right yet. They were frustrated, and so was their instructor, Mr. Malfoy. He was a hard taskmaster, more brutal than even Professor Snape could be. He berated them thoroughly for their lack of progress. He constantly reminded the boys that mastering Apparition might one day mean their lives.

Harry was determined that today would be the day he succeeded. He'd had enough of this stalled period. He wanted to have that breakthrough, to feel that rush of performing new magic for the first time.

Today, Elan had decided to join them. Though they were confined to the houses, they had not seen him much other than at meals every other evening. He spent much of his time in his room, writing letters urging people to support the Ministry effort against Voldemort. When Theo had needed someone to sit with him, Elan had volunteered. Harry was sure that it was Elan's urging that had made Theo decide to go to the party.

"There's been no change in Theo," he reported. "He still won't speak."

"I wonder if he's going to be like this when classes start," Harry said.

"Classes?" Draco said "Is he even going to be prepared for classes? He needs new books, robes, ingredients, and everything."

"Maybe Snape will take him."

"There's a sight I'd like to see. Snape doesn't exactly seem the paternal sort, does he?"

Harry considered Snape as a father. "I could see it. I think he'd figure it out eventually."

"Probably. Snape can do anything."

"How are you, Elan?"

"Draco asked me to provide a distraction. Father makes him nervous. I'll be showing off a bit."

Sirius and Mr. Malfoy finished their conversation and turned to the boys.

"You have been Side-Along Apparated a number of times," Mr. Malfoy said. "You know what it feels like. You can do this. Remember the three D's. Destination, determination, and deliberation. Just turn on the spot and step sideways."

Elan demonstrated, popping across the room to where Sirius stood. "You're making it too complicated. You're over-thinking. Just relax and _do_ it. This will eventually be second-nature to you."

Mr. Malfoy kept up his running monologue, a combination of exhortion, instruction, denigration, and damnation for an hour with no progress. Harry broke out in virtual rivers of perspiration. His muscles all ached, and he hadn't lifted a single weight.

"I wish I knew what I was doing wrong," Harry complained, glaring at the innocent circle on the floor as though it were to blame for his lack of progress. He'd been shown the process many times, and as Mr. Malfoy said, he'd been exposed to it second-hand on many occasions. He should be able to do this.

"Focus on your destination!"

"My destination is the shower," Harry muttered. Draco snickered.

"Concentrate!"

All Harry could concentrate on was how tired he was, how beaten up and grubby he felt. For not having achieved anything, he certainly had worked up a good sweat. His muscles were sore and starting to tighten up. His legs and back ached like something awful. He honestly felt like someone had been hitting him with a stick. He started to daydream about a hot bath, which was dangerous. Daydreaming could lead to Splinching.

Harry tried to think about the circle on the floor, but he just couldn't do it.

"I was thinking," he muttered to Draco. "I really, really want to be in my bath right now. Perhaps more than anything else in the world, I want to be in the bath. So I wonder if-"

Harry closed his eyes. A blissful, peaceful expression came over his face. He turned on the spot and _popped_ out of existence.

The magical journey through the ether took only an instant. The horrid compressive feeling was already fading as Harry opened his eyes. The tile of the bathroom next to his bedroom greeted him. He'd done it.

Harry sat down on the edge of the bathtub before his legs gave out on him. His whole body felt drained. He closed his eyes and just _existed_ for a moment.

There was a commotion out in the house that was faintly heard through the bathroom door. Someone was coming up the stairs at a great hurry.

"Harry?"

Sirius sounded panicked. Harry called out reassuringly, "I'm in here, Sirius!"

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I think I did it!"

"No missing parts?" Sirius was _very_ worried.

Harry quickly checked himself. Two arms, two legs, ten fingers, ten toes, and the very important naughty bits were all accounted for.

"No, I'm all here."

"Well done. I'll be in the sitting room."

Harry pulled off his clothing bit by bit, dropping it carelessly to the floor. He turned the knobs of the tap and drew himself a hot bath. The shower would have been quicker, but he didn't trust his legs to hold him up. It was all he could do to get into the tub, because his knees were trembling with fatigue.

Steam rose in lazy currents. It looked so tremendously inviting. He stepped into the soothing water with a sigh of relief. The heat felt wondrous on his aching muscles. He lay back and closed his eyes. By Merlin, he was worn out, but he'd done it! He'd finally managed to Apparate!

Now that he'd done it once, he would have to do it again. Harry hoped he would be able to recreate that determination. Right now, though, the very idea of Apparating again made him yawn. He didn't go to sleep, per se, but he did lose track of time as he relaxed.

After being in the bath for what his watch informed him had been nearly an hour, Harry felt much better. He dried off, wrapped the towel around his waist, and headed to his room. The air of the room circulated through the open window, generating a breeze that ruffled the curtains and felt good on Harry's skin. He casually dropped the towel to the floor and strode over to his dresser to pull out some clothes.

"Oh, how scandalous!" his mirror said. Shoshi had a pleasant alto voice, was decidedly female, and could be absolutely pushy. "Young man, put some clothes on at once!"

"I'm in the privacy of my own room," Harry retorted, "and I'm getting there."

He put some pants on first, then a pair of short trousers. Now the mirror was not so shocked.

"You should wear a tight shirt to emphasize your chest," Shoshi advised. "Those muscles are dreamy, and the girls will be swooning left and right."

"Not like I'm going to be seeing a lot of them," Harry said ruefully. "I'm locked up here all summer."

"Then your absence will make their hearts grow fonder," the mirror declared, "and you must be prepared for when they see you again. I'll get right to work on that. You're going to look fabulous!"

Harry couldn't help but grin. The enchanted mirror had been a birthday present from Elan. Upon first setting it up, he'd been shocked to hear it introduce itself. He'd gone through a grilling for information about his wardrobe, his social life, what his general needs were. It had taken hours, and he'd cursed Elan quite vociferously. Once it had settled down, however, the mirror had become much more subdued, only occasionally asking questions about changes in lifestyle. Now it just offered really good fashion advice.

Once he was dressed, Harry left his room and went to look for Sirius. It wasn't quite time for lunch yet, and Sirius was found in the sitting room reading his post. Mr. Malfoy was also there, reading a scroll of parchment.

"Hello."

"Harry, there you are. Everything all right?"

"Yes, Sirius, I'm fine."

"Congratulations, Harry."

"Thank you, Mister Malfoy."

"You have done it once. Tomorrow you will do it again. Into the circle, if you please."

"Yes, sir. Where are Draco and Elan? I thought we could play cards."

"I sent them home to deliver a message to Narcissa. Perhaps you could go over to the manor later tonight?"

"No, I've got plans." The full moon was tonight, and Harry planned to be down in the basement with Padfoot and Moony in his Animagus form, but Draco didn't know about that yet, so Harry wanted to change the subject. He looked at Sirius. "Anything exciting in the post?"

Sirius smiled. "Well, I've found one."

"One what?"

"Pensieve."

"Really?" Harry asked. "That's the thing you put memories in, right?"

"Indeed, Harry. I've been asking around, and I finally managed to locate an Artificer who knows how to make one. She sent me an estimate, I arranged payment, and she just sent me notice that she's begun working on it. It should be ready in about six months."

"You're paying for a new Pensieve, cousin?"

"I am, Lucius."

Mr. Malfoy cocked his head slightly. "Why?" he questioned, throwing all kinds of inflection on to the single word.

"Because I want one."

"You should have told me you were looking for one. I have one sitting in my vault at Gringott's that is supposed to have been made by Llewellyn the Longsighted."

"That's very generous of you, Lucius, but it suits me to have my own. For some reason, there isn't one amongst the many treasures of the Black family. Not that I've found anyway."

"How much are you paying this Artificer?"

"Twenty thousand Galleons."

Mr. Malfoy winced. "Cousin! Is that the best you could bargain to?"

"I talked her down from thirty."

"That's sheer extortion."

"Yes, that's one word for it," Sirius said pleasantly. "It's simple economics, Lucius. I have a demand, and there's no supply except her. It took me ages just to find her."

"I'm sure I could have expidited things. I could have found someone willing to sell."

"I'm sure you could have, Lucius, but the fact is I decided to engage in my own dealings." Sirius sounded like he was getting irritated. "You think I overpaid? Fine, but remember that I am a Black. We know how to spend money. We don't do it often, but always with style and flair."

"That's a _lot_ of flair, Sirius."

"You're just mad I didn't involve you."

"I am a businessman."

"Looking for a commission?"

"I only want to wet my beak."

Sirius snorted rudely and picked up another letter.

"Do you think we'll see Remus for lunch?" Harry asked, saying something to fill the awkward silence.

The door to the sitting room was open, and a floorboard creaked with a sudden footstep.

"Did somebody say Remus?"

"Why yes. I was just asking if we'd see you for lunch."

"How's business, Remus?" Sirius asked.

"Not good, Sirius. Not good."

"Not warm enough for ice cream?"

"It's always warm enough for ice cream. No, the weather is agreeable enough. It's quite hot out. There are plenty of people out and about as well, but they just seem to be avoiding me today."

"You don't look well, Lupin."

"Thank you, Malfoy. I appreciate the concern." Remus did not seem appreciative. "I think I will stay in for the rest of the day. There's no point in being out there and having my product melt."

"Certainly not."

"Are you hungry, Remus?" Sirius inquired.

"I feel a mite peckish."

"Let's eat, then."

In the dining room, Kreacher took orders for preparing lunch.

"Bread for sandwiches. A selection of sliced meats," Harry said, going first. "Cheese. Yellow mustard."

"Anything exciting happen since breakfast?" Remus asked.

"Nothing much," Sirius deadpanned. "I got some good news about a special project I've been working on, Lucius and I had a disagreement, and Harry managed to Apparate."

"Congratulations, Harry!" Remus shouted. He clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Well done!"

"Thanks, Remus."

"Now you have to do it again tomorrow."

"That's what they tell me," Harry said ruefully. "I hope it's easier now that I've done it once."

"I believe it will be. It was for me." Remus looked to Sirius. "What was in the post? Is there any news about Theo?"

"No word lately from the castle."

Harry shook his head. "Elan says he's still not talking. I hate seeing him like this. I just feel so- so-"

"Helpless?"

"Yeah. There's nothing I can do for him."

"I know it doesn't feel like you're doing anything," Remus said, "but simply being there is a lot. He's got to be trying to wrap his brain around everything. Until he can come to terms with what he's done, he's not going to be his old self. It was a good sign to see him at the party. He knows his friends are still here, even if for the time being, he's choosing to face his daemons alone."

"You sound pretty certain."

"I know a thing or two about facing one's daemons."

"Do you think you could help Theo?"

"If he should seek my help, I will gladly give it."

"I'll make sure he knows that."

"Good," Remus said, wiping his mouth on his napkin. "Excellent lunch. Thank you, Kreacher. Now, I think I'm going to visit the library. It's nice and quiet in there. Plenty of dim light to sooth the eyes. I've got a monster of a headache."

"I have more communications to make with various Ministry officials," Mr. Malfoy said. "Also a great deal of headache."

Remus smiled at the joke. He exited the dining room and walked across the entrance hall to the library. Mr. Malfoy followed him out but headed to the staircase.

"Feel up to some lifting?" Sirius asked.

"Maybe," Harry said after a moment's consideration. "I'm still pretty knackered from this morning."

"Understandable. Let's take it easy. We'll do low weight, high reps."

"Sounds good."

Harry and Sirius headed to the first floor weight room. Harry didn't bother to look through any of the music crystals and simply tapped his wand to begin whatever they'd left in last time. It turned out to be Wand Smasher, and one of Harry's favorite tunes began. They'd played "Irresistible Force, Immovable Object" at his first show - dedicated it to him, even. The song was incredible, and he'd been a fan of the band ever since.

The light workout was actually making Harry feel somewhat better. Once his muscles warmed up, he actually thought he might be able to lift a bit more weight. He reached for his wand.

"Something wrong?" Sirius asked.

"No, just going to increase the weight a bit."

"Too light?"

"I just think I can do some more."

"Be careful. Remember we're going to do lots of reps."

"I will."

He turned the density up by only one point instead of the two he'd intended. He raised the bar up twice to test it. He nodded. Sirius had been right. The weight was good, and while he could have easily lifted an additional point, he probably couldn't do it for a great length of time.

Harry had settled down into a good rhythm, lifting with the beat of the music. The sudden end of the song (it ended on a three-beat) caught Sirius off-guard as it always did, and he dropped his weight. It clanged loudly in the sudden quiet; the album was over.

"Graceful," Harry said teasingly. "Practice that one a lot, do you?"

"All the time. It's always better to let a weight fall than try to catch it if you're not set. The ground doesn't get hurt. You do."

"Right. I'll remember."

"How's your homework coming along?"

"It's coming. I'm almost done with everything."

"You've got less than a month to go, kiddo. Any assignments complete yet?"

"A few. I tried to get McGonagall's out of the way first, but I think I might have to go back to it. History was easy enough, if a bit boring."

"This from the boy who likes history?"

"Yup. Binns is a boring teacher, and his assignments aren't very fun either. I wonder if there's some way we can get him replaced by someone a bit more alive."

"But then what would poor old Binns do?" Sirius asked. "His whole reason for remaining on this plane is to educate young minds."

"Maybe we can help him move on somehow. I'd love to see Abraham Montague come back to Hogwarts to teach. He's the one who really made me see that History could be interesting."

"The ability to inspire young minds is a rare and valued quality in a teacher. Plenty don't have it."

"Is that a dig at Snape?"

Sirius grinned. "I don't know _what_ you could possibly be talking about."

Harry snorted. "A likely story. Snape's a great teacher. He just has no use for idiots and time-wasters."

"Never did have a lot of patience, Sniv. I must say, it really is surprising that he's teaching. I thought he'd be holed up in some windowless dungeon brewing potions and inventing nasty new hexes. Do you know he arrived at Hogwarts knowing more jinxes than most of the third years?"

"Nothing wrong with knowing a few spells."

Sirius put down his weights and took a long drink of water. He mopped at his forehead with a towel.

"Care for a rest?"

"Sure."

"Pick a new music crystal."

Harry poked through the rather large selection of bands that they'd acquired. Sirius had gone into Mortimer's Music and bought one of everything. Harry pulled out something new.

"I wonder what The Spellbinders sound like."

"Let's find out."

The first song was very melodic, with few words for the first five minutes or so. The guitar was like nothing Harry had ever heard before. It felt like a rippling river as it moved from chord to chord. The drums weren't very dominant but more of a background thing, soft and emphatic rather than driving.

"Interesting," Harry said.

"I like it. It's very relaxing. I don't know that it's appropriate to lift weights to. I think something to get the adrenaline pumping would be better, but I do like it."

"Shall I swap it out?"

"No, let's keep listening. We're doing low weight anyway."

They continued to lift and listen. The next song had a bit of a livelier feel and also lyrics, which helped. It was two sisters trading verses about their childhood, and Harry wished he had siblings so he could identify more with the story. The third tune was just starting when they were interrupted.

"I found it!" came a shout from downstairs. "Sirius! Harry! I found it!"

Harry and Sirius looked at each other with inquisitive expressions. They both put down their weights and reached for towels to wipe the sweat off their brows as they headed for the ground floor.

"Remus?" Sirius called out as they entered the library. "Everything all right?"

"I found it, Padfoot!"

"What now?"

"I know what animal Harry turns into!"

Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. "What am I?"

"Take a look for yourself." Moony spun the book around and shoved it towards Harry.

Mongoose

Mongooses (Herpestidae) are a family of 33 species of small carnivorans from southern Eurasia and mainland Africa. The mongoose ranges from 1–4 feet (0.30–1.2 m) in length. Mongoose range in weight from the squirrel-sized Common Dwarf Mongoose, at 280 g (9.9 oz), to the cat-sized White-tailed Mongoose, at 4 kg (8.8 lb). Some species lead predominantly solitary lives, seeking out food only for themselves, while others travel in groups, sharing food among group members.

The mongoose is impervious to neurotoxic snake venoms, one reason why it is known as a serpent killer. The Indian Mongoose and others are popularly used to fight and kill venomous snakes, including vipers. They can do this because of their agility and cunning, their thick coat, as well as the immunity. The mongoose typically avoids the cobra and has no particular affinity for consuming its meat.

"Look at that picture. That's Harry, no doubt."

"A mongoose, eh? Well, there were worse things to be, like a rat," Padfoot interjected.

"Not bad at all," Moony said.

"Pretty cool," Padfoot retorted. "I think it definitely helped him get through that Maze. A hippopotamus wouldn't have been so useful."

"It did at that. I think it's a very good omen," Moony said. "Mongooses are known for killing snakes. I can think of a pretty big snake that needs killing."

It was true that Voldemort - or rather, Tom Riddle - had been a Slytherin. Harry was prophesized to kill him, so his form being a mongoose made a certain amount of sense. Harry didn't know how much he liked the symbolism, though. He was a snake himself, and loyalty to the house and your fellow snakes was paramount. Could he get excited about killing a fellow snake?

He should go find a real snake, Harry realized, and ask it. If snakes would fight each other, then he supposed he could accept being a snake who turned into a mongoose in order to kill other snakes. Or something. By Merlin, he was confused.

"Well, it's good to know finally," Harry said. "I was starting to think I was something new."

"No, I knew I recognized it," Moony said. "I just couldn't place it. No wonder! They're not from around here."

The discovery came right in time for the full moon that very night, the second Thursday in August. Now instead of having to painstakingly picture his animal form in his mind, Harry could use "mongoose" as a trigger. He could change in a flash now. He demonstrated to Padfoot before they headed down to dinner.

"Padfoot, I want to show you something."

He changed instantly into the mongoose. He ran around his godfather's feet once and changed back.

"Look at how fast I can do this!"

He became the mongoose again. He sat back on his hind feet and chattered up at Padfoot briefly. He became Harry. Several more times he demonstrated his transformation. It was so nearly effortless. Knowing what he was changing into had solidified his skill. It was so easy to do! He felt like he could do it all day.

"Enough, Harry, enough!" Padfoot said, holding up his hands. The smile on his face beamed so brightly that he could have steered boats away from dangerous shores. He clapped Harry on the shoulders. "My boy," he said thickly. "I think you're ready. Oh, I wish Prongs could be here for this."

Harry wished that too, but Padfoot had finally said the word. He was ready to enter the special room in the cellar with Moony and face down a werewolf. "Yes!"

"If things go badly, Moony might get his claws into you. Sudden shocks to the body can cause you to revert if you're not all the way there. If that happens, I'll protect you until you can change back. It's harder to change when you're distracted by pain, but with you there as well, he should be a bit more tractable. The more of us there were, the easier it goes for him."

"I've been looking forward to this since forever."

"I always knew one day I'd be helping your dad teach you this stuff," Padfoot replied, his tone and his eyes a bit distant. "I knew one day we'd let you run with the Marauders. Now Moony and Padfoot are the only Marauders left, but tonight we will be three. You need a name."

"Like you said, it will be apparent."

"I can't wait. Let's go eat."

"I don't think I can," Harry confessed. "I'm too excited."

"You'll need your strength tonight."

Dinner was quiet. Mr. Malfoy made attempts to keep the discussion going, but nobody wanted to talk. All Harry could think about was what would happen in a few hours, and Remus seldom had the presence of mind to carry on conversation on the night of the full moon. He was always distracted, as though listening to music only he could hear. As the hour grew later, the worse it became.

After dinner, Harry, Sirius, and Remus headed for the kitchen in the basement. They sat at the table drinking coffee and waited for the hour to grow nigh. They bantered a bit, but as the laughter faded away, Moony stood up. His face was haggard, and his eyes distant.

"It's time."

There was no need for words. All of them knew what to do. Harry and Padfoot stood. Together the three wizards entered the cell. Sirius closed the door. The lock clicked. The bar fell into place.

"_Aromahola!_" Padfoot spoke the words that activated the magicks on the lock and put his wand away.

Harry closed his eyes. _Mongoose_, he thought and willed the change. Instantly he was in his Animagus form. Scents assailed his nose. His eyes were sharp and keen. The sounds of spiders weaving webs was plain to hear.

Padfoot flowed into the shape of the enormous, bear-like dog. His scent struck Harry's nostrils with a familiar musk. Padfoot was a friend, a companion, a guardian. Many times they had raced through the halls of Grimmauld Place. The two Animagi had had lots of fun times.

Moony was beginning his own transformation, more painful than theirs. Harry had never seen this before, only heard it. He watched through the eyes of an animal as Moony pulled off his robes and stood there in his pants. His body began to swell, as though he were taking a great breath. His head and body were lengthening. His shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws.

The wolf glared up at them. Insane hatred blazed out from the yellow eyes. He slowly got to his feet, his head kept low. Growls emerged from deep in his throat. His body heaved with ragged breaths. He howled deep and slow, a call of awakening.

_Kill. Chase, tear, kill, devour!_

Padfoot stepped forward to face the wolf. He was nearly the same size, slightly smaller, but he didn't give an inch. He also held his head low, to protect his throat. His hackles were raised. He growled right back.

_No. Play. Have fun._

_Fun?_

_Chase, play, fun._

_Fun!_

The growling stopped. The wolf shuddered and then began to shake himself as though shaking off water. His lips pulled back in a ferocious smile. He bowed his head for a moment. His ears, which had been laying flat against his head, suddenly perked up.

_Padfoot?_

_Moony._

_Padfoot._

_Moony._

The madness had receded somewhat. Moony was clearly in there somewhere, struggling to maintain control over the beast within his soul.

_Boy._

Harry did his best to calm his puffed up fur as shivers of fear ran up and down his body. He resisted the urge to chatter warningly. The werewolf was tremendously dangerous, and Harry wanted to flee.

_Friend._

_Friend?_

Moony sat back on his haunches and scratched himself. He stood and began to pace back and forth in the tiny cell, the restlessness of the wolf needing an outlet.

He watched Harry, who crept closer, his own curious nose twitching furiously. Harry was a new smell to the wolf. Feeling Moony's snout snuffle along his back nearly made Harry jump out of his skin. Every instinct of his mongoose form was screaming to him to run away as fast as he could. He forced himself to stand there and be sniffed.

When Moony had finished investigating Harry, he seemed to calm a bit. The pacing slowed a bit, though it did not stop.

_Friend._

Harry's euphoria was at once both total and completely alien. It was the relief of the mongoose, which understood with Harry's human brain, that the wolf was not an enemy. He would have to watch for flashes of the rage, but he wouldn't be on edge with anticipation.

The cell was big enough that the two larger animals could race and tussle without too much trouble. Racing was a good way to burn off the wolf's rage, and Moony liked to win. Padfoot was his only real competition. Harry's mongoose was quick, but length of limb mattered greatly. He watched the racing from the centre of the cell.

Padfoot lay down between Harry and Moony. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, and his breathing was heavy.

Moony lay down as well, but his head stayed up. Harry hopped over Padfoot and scurried up on to Moony's head. He perched there as Moony tried to look up. He leaned down and peered in Moony's face.

"Ick ick ick!"

Moony barked in what was unmistakably a laugh. He stood up and began to trot around the room, Harry still sitting squarely on his head.

The games went on for several hours. Harry was actually having quite a lot of fun. He was able to garner from what Padfoot was saying that Moony was much more tractable than he usually was. There hadn't been a single fight.

But all things must eventually come to an end. In the middle of yet another race, Moony fell to the floor with a howl of pain. He began to claw at his body, leaving great bloody gashes. Harry moved closer to investigate, but Padfoot caught him by the scruff of the neck and lifted him away.

_Moony!_ Padfoot called out, trying to reach through the madness.

With a snarl, Moony lunged at Padfoot, knocking him aside. He snapped his jaws for Harry, but Harry was quick enough to evade. He chattered at Moony, scolding him profusely. He dodged the teeth again.

Then Padfoot was there. He slammed into the wolf with all of his mass and followed it up with a bite at the throat.

Harry tried to get through to Moony, somewhere under that bad-tempered wolf. _Moony!_

The werewolf broke away from his struggle with the great dog and curled up on the floor. He clawed at himself again, screaming with pain with each fresh wound that opened up. He threw back his head and howled, a sound filled with agony and anger.

Harry jumped up on Padfoot's back. He chattered quickly, trying to communicate his thoughts.

_Moony!_ they cried together. _Be strong!_

It seemed that he heard them. His thrashing stilled, and his cries of pain quieted to whimpers. Moony looked up at them with mourning eyes. Padfoot slowly approached and snuffled at his head. He lay down next to Moony, who was having a time of it just to breathe. His side rose and fell in rapid succession, and Harry jumped lightly off of Padfoot's back and over to Moony's other side. He sat back on his haunches and chattered softly.

Most of Moony's energy seemed to have been drained by the last bout of madness. He lay still for quite some time, and Harry dared to wonder if he'd fallen asleep. But no, once his breathing grew less frenzied, Moony leaped to his feet and began his awful pacing again.

Harry was very worn out, but he joined Padfoot as they raced around the cell some more. He hadn't realized how absolutely tiring being up all night with a werewolf could be. He hoped he would be able to make it through. He really didn't want to turn back into a human before Moony did.

Finally the night waned. The moon set, and Moony was finally able to get some rest. The sound of snoring came from his direction. He wouldn't change back into a human until the sun rose, but at least he was no longer in torment.

Harry wasn't quite ready to brave sleeping, though he was struggling to keep his eyes open. He wished he'd drunk more coffee after dinner. He forced himself to stay on his feet, to keep walking around.

The sun at last came up. Though there were no windows in this underground cell, the sunrise was apparent. Moony transformed back into a man with scarcely a whit of the dramatics that accompanied the earlier change. His body shrank, the hair faded, and the face returned to normal, but the horrible gashes where he'd turned his claws on himself remained. They did not bleed, but they practically glowed with an eerie red intensity.

Padfoot roused himself with a great shake. He looked at Moony, back in his human body, and resumed his own proper shape. He smiled hugely, despite the tiredness plain on his face. "Well done," he said to Harry.

Harry also changed back. The first thing he did was to yawn wide enough for Hagrid to walk through. He wondered if he'd be able to make it up to his bed.

"Is he going to be okay?"

"Those injuries will fade in a day or so. There are a few salves that can help."

"Let's get out of here."

"Moony, time to get up."

Moony opened his eyes. "Hello, old friend."

Padfoot reached down and gave Moony a hand up. He took out his wand and removed the magical protections keeping the werewolf inside. The locks opened. The three men walked out.

Mr. Malfoy was waiting for them on the other side of the door. He sat at the table in his dressing gown, blond hair tied back with a matching green ribbon, with a pot of tea in front of him and his arms folded across his chest. He seemed very perturbed, and the expression on his face could not be mistaken.

"Sirius, what insanity is this? Why is Harry in this cell? Why are you in this cell? What the devil is going on here?"

"Good morning, Lucius. Would you please not shout? We've had a long night."

"Answer me."

"We kept Remus company. I always do this."

"You _what?_"

"Oh yes. Since we were lads. It's a hoot."

"Now you've gotten Harry involved?"

"Certainly."

"This is absurd!"

"Not at all. It's his right to run with us, in the place that was his father's."

"James Potter was also a party to this?"

"It wasn't a party _unless_ James was there."

Mr. Malfoy could not seem to summon the words to carry on this conversation. He turned and headed up the stairs.

Padfoot snorted. "What did he _think_ we were doing down here?"

"Maybe he thought we were just hanging out outside the door."

"Maybe."

"Harry, thank you for being there for me last night. I felt more myself than I have in many moons. Your presence helped me keep my mind, anchor my reason."

"I was glad to be there, Moony. How about next time we lock Lucius in the cell and have the free run of the house?"

Padfoot laughed uproariously.

"Since when do you call him by his first name?" Moony asked.

"You and Sirius do it, and so I've come to associate his name with him."

"I wouldn't slip in front of him."

"I haven't. I won't, either."

"Good plan."

"How about the other plan?"

"Locking him up?" Padfoot said. "Sounds perfect."

**AN:** The entry on the mongoose is adapted from the Wikipedia article and deliberately distorted in a few ways to reflect the wizarding world's lack of scientific method. Please don't leave a review just to complain that I'm wrong. It's a writing choice, not a mistake.


	7. The Order of the Phoenix

**Chapter Seven - The Order of the Phoenix**

It was not quite two weeks before the start of school. The Order of the Phoenix hadn't had a meeting since the small group had gathered in Dumbledore's office. Harry was frankly starting to wonder if they were going to do anything at all. So far, all of the action had been by Voldemort. He was making raids, abducting people, killing people, and yet the Order had done nothing. The Ministry hadn't done any attacking either, but at least they were readying their defences. Harry couldn't see any evidence that Dumbledore was doing anything.

Sirius opened his post that Saturday morning after breakfast and scowled fiercely as he read the contents of the message. He thrust the parchment away from him with disgust.

"Bad news?" Harry asked.

"There's finally another meeting."

"Well that's a good thing. When?"

"Tonight."

"Well, that's fine. I expect I should wear something sober so he doesn't think I'm playing a game." Harry began to plot his wardrobe. A dark green shirt with grey trousers and vest. Then his green robes over that.

"The letter says to come alone."

"What?"

"Dumbledore doesn't want me to bring you to a full meeting," Sirius said sourly.

Harry picked up the letter and glanced at it. Professor Dumbledore's neatly ornate handwriting with all of its loops and flourishes was unmistakeable.

"Sirius, this is talking about a Muggle opera. How can you tell?"

"Code. The particular lines he cited refer to a meeting, and the character who sings the lines goes alone. There are other lines in the song sung by people who go together, and that means all members should be told. When it's this summons, it's by invitation only."

"Well bugger that."

"My thoughts exactly," Sirius agreed. "I think he's worried about being too open about involving you."

"I'm already involved."

"I know, and that's why we're going to give you every weapon we can think of."

"So is this meeting at Malfoy Manor?"

"Yes."

Mr. Malfoy had offered up his home as headquarters when they'd had nowhere else to go. Though he himself could no longer go there, Mrs. Malfoy ruled the place now with an iron fist. The Order had set up shop in the east wing.

"I can't wait."

Yet wait he did. He was kept busy by his Apparition training, and he'd built on his earlier success. He could now easily Apparate across the room to a place he could see. Draco had managed the trick once, but he continued his efforts in that regard while Harry attempted to move from the duelling room to the hall outside.

After far too long, Mr. Malfoy called an end to the lesson. Harry was very glad, because he was getting frustrated at his partial success. He kept on moving only part of the distance. Thankfully he did not Splinch himself.

"I'm going to have a bath before lunch," he declared.

"Wonderful idea," Draco agreed. "I'll have one too. All this sweat has me smelling like stinksap. I'm as dirty as a Weasley, and that just Will Not Do. My muscles are so stiff I can barely move."

"Complain, complain, complain," Harry teased. "Would you like me to levitate you upstairs, or can you make it on your own?"

Draco contemplated that for a few moments, and Harry shoved him towards the door. The two boys headed up to the third floor. Mr. Malfoy and Remus had the two bedrooms on the opposite side of the house and shared the bath Harry now showed Draco to. The bath next to his room he shared with Sirius, whose bedroom was up on the fourth floor.

The hot water felt delightful, as it always did after a hard lesson. Harry was quite content to soak in the tub for an hour or so. Much relaxed and reinvigourated, he toweled off, got dressed, and headed down to lunch.

After a hearty meal, Harry and Draco headed back upstairs to attempt some more homework. They were nearly done with their holiday assignments, with only Professors McGonagall, Sinistra, and Binns left to satisfy. They had less than two weeks to get it done. Harry worried about the theoretical portion of Transfiguration; he was quite sure he could do any task old McGonagall asked of him without effort.

The time soon came to depart for the meeting.

"Harry, you've been to Malfoy Manor quite a lot. Do you think you could Apparate there?"

"Isn't it pretty far?"

"It is, but your familiarity with the destination will counteract the distance."

Harry shook his head. "I have no desire to Splinch myself again. Even if I do it right, I'll be exhausted. I'd probably nod off and start snoring in the meeting."

"As you will. Let's go then."

Sirius held out his hand, and Harry took it. Remus held out his hand to Draco. The four men Disapparated. The sickening crush lasted only a moment. The nausea was brief.

They were in the courtyard where water bubbled from the sea serpent fountain with a cheerful splashing.

The double doors were open, and one of the house elves stood there.

"Meeting is in the ballroom, sirs."

Mrs. Malfoy came along, undoubtedly alerted to their presence by another house elf.

"Hello, Harry, dear. Hello, Sirius, Remus. Draco, you and Harry go find your brother. Stay out of trouble, and stay out of the way."

"Yes, mum."

Mrs. Malfoy began talking quietly to Sirius and Remus as Harry and Draco headed upstairs.

"So they're keeping us out of the meeting," Harry said.

"Bunk. Who do they think they're dealing with? This is my home. I know all the secret passages. There's three of them with access to the ballroom alone."

"What if they move the meeting?"

"There's not a single room in this house, bedrooms aside, that you can't watch from a secret passage."

"Good."

"It's useless," Elan said, not even saying hello.

Elan looked a right mess. His hair was untidy, his clothes were wrinkled, and he hadn't shaved in several days.

"Obviously you haven't had a date lately," Harry observed cheekily.

"Blame Mother for that," Elan rued. "I can't go anywhere or the Death Eaters might snatch me up. I've had no social life all summer. Bridget asked me if I'm planning to break up with her. I had to write a foot of love note just to make her feel better."

"Poor thing," Draco said, offering not very sincere sounding comfort. "Doesn't she realize we're all in the same boat?"

"Women aren't rational like that, little brother."

"You don't need to tell me how crazy girls are," Draco retorted.

"You've got to treat them right, and when things like this happen where you can't, you've got to reassure them of your affections. Why do you think Parvati got so upset with you?"

"Can we not talk about her?"

"Sure."

"So do you want to go spy on the meeting with us?"

"What's the point? You're just going to get caught."

"Says you."

Harry followed Draco into a secret passage. He lit his wand and carefully trod the narrow steps down to the ground floor again.

"This will do. It's hard to focus on anything in the painting on the other side of this wall. It's a fruit bowl. I think the eyeslits are the grapes."

They'd gotten into place just in time. Remus and Sirius were already there, of course. They took seats and waited, exchanging idle chit-chat. Various members of the Order were arriving.

The next person to enter the room was Sirius' cousin, Nymphadora Tonks. She had a pale heart-shaped face, dark twinkling eyes, and short spiky hair. She'd switched off the bubblegum pink colour she'd worn last time Harry had seen her and had changed it to a more lively electric blue. Harry thought she'd fit right in with the girls from Wand Smasher.

"Hey, cousin. Hello, Remus."

"Hi, Tonks," Remus replied.

"'Dora," Sirius said.

Tonks made an awful face at him. "Why?"

"Because."

"Bite me."

"How's she do that?" Draco asked. "Her hair, I mean. Even Pansy doesn't know potions that can make those colours."

"Tonks is a morphagus or something," Harry replied. "She can change her shape at will and such. She told me about it last Easter."

"She chooses to change her hair colour?"

"Wouldn't you if you could?"

"I like my hair, thank you very much," Draco said primly.

"Good. Why don't you comb it?"

"Is it mussed?" Draco said with concern. He pulled his comb out of his pocket. "I need a mirror."

"Oh, shut up."

In the ballroom, a bald black wizard who wore a single gold hoop in his ear had arrived. He greeted Sirius, Remus, and Tonks in a deep, slow voice.

"Hiya, Kingsley," Tonks said brightly. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Good to see you, Kingsley," Remus said. "How are things at the Auror Division?"

"Very busy," the wizard called Kingsley replied. "Many new recruits to train. I find myself missing Moody, strange as it sounds."

"Moody is the best," Tonks said. She was also an Auror and had been Moody's last apprentice.

A squat, unshaven man in a tattered overcoat slouched into the room. He had short, bandy legs, long straggly ginger hair and bloodshot, baggy eyes that gave him the doleful look of a basset hound.

"Shacklebolt," the newcomer said. "Lupin, Black, Tonks."

"Hello, Dung," Remus replied. "Still smoking that infernal pipe, I see."

"I left it at home. Narcissa threatened to tell the whole world I've turned informant if I brought it into her house again. It would have been disasterous for me. How'd you know I smoked right before I came?"

Remus tapped his nose. "The nose knows, and that baccy you favour is none too mild, either."

"Dung?" Draco said to Harry. "What kind of name is that?"

"Mundungus Fletcher. Maybe his mother didn't like him very much. Remus and Sirius have mentioned him before."

The next to arrive was a silver-haired wizard with a wheezy voice. He sat down at the nearest chair and drank deeply from the glass of water that the house elves had set out. Before anyone could clue the spies as to his name, a stately-looking witch in an emerald green shawl entered the room followed by a square-jawed wizard with thick straw-colored hair and a pink-cheeked, black-haired witch.

Harry recognized none of them, but he did know Dedalus Diggle, whose distinctive violet top hat and short stature were unmistakeable. Harry had met Diggle on several occasions.

A number of other witches and wizards entered in groups of two and three. The room was rather quickly filling up.

Professor Snape arrived next. He spoke to no one, and no one spoke to him. He sat as far away from Sirius and Remus as he could, his hood up, and his hands concealed in the sleeves of his robe.

Mrs. Malfoy escorted Professors Dumbledore and Moody into the ballroom. They closed the door, and the room fell silent. Mrs. Malfoy seated herself at the table.

"Are we ready to begin?" Dumbledore asked. Nobody said otherwise. "Now, our first bit of business is the attacks on Muggles. The Ministry has been very busy responding to a number of unusual incidents, not least of which is-"

"I beg your pardon, gentlemen," Moody said. "There's something I must attend to."

"Certainly, Alastor," Dumbledore said easily. Moody stumped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"As I was saying, the Ministry is dealing with a number of high-profile incidents. First and foremost is the collapse of the Brockdale Bridge last week. I am convinced that it was no accident. We suspect Death Eaters weakened critical support beams, and the bridge simply could not withstand the added stresses."

"How many people were hurt?" said Diggle.

"Some one hundred killed outright. Many more were wounded."

"So many dead?"

"Many were trapped in their cars and drowned."

"Disgusting." Diggle shook his head sadly. "He's going after large groups of Muggles bunched together and doing something spectacular. I have more to report about the Westminster tube bombing. It was no ordinary act of terrorism."

"Are you certain?" said Dumbledore.

"Magical residue saturates the site of the crash. There can be no doubt," Diggle said. "I cast the spells three times. Magic was involved in tampering with the brakes of the train and supercharging the very train itself with suppressed kinetic energy. I'm frankly surprised that the explosion wasn't bigger."

"Do the Muggles suspect anything?"

"No, they think it was just your run of the mill bombing. Several of their politicians are trying to pin it on leftover elements of the Irish Republican Army, but they're disavowing any responsibility."

"If they don't think anything out of the ordinary, I see no reason to enlighten them," Remus said. "It's not fair to the Irish, but telling them the truth would be much worse. If the Prime Minister were to suspect that we couldn't control the situation, who knows what sort of trouble we'd have to deal with? It could potentially break down the Statute of Secrecy."

"Which is precisely what Voldemort is hoping for," Dumbledore said. "He knows it will distract our efforts. He's more than content to simply kill all of the Muggles once he attains power. He can spin it any number of ways, but he knows we're going to try and protect both their lives and their ignorance."

"There was another attack last week," Tonks said. "The British Culinary Museum. The electrical system went berserk, the boiler room exploded, and the fire supression failed to operate. Perhaps fifty people died in the rush."

"That's the same _modus operandi_ as what happened at the Bodleian Library," Remus said. "The place burned to the ground."

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "Such a loss. Knowledge is too precious a thing."

"In that, Professor, we are in agreement."

"All right, Potter, Malfoy. Come out of there."

Harry jumped. He turned around with dread in the pit of his stomach. Professor Moody's stern voice alone made Harry's knees wibble. He looked at Draco, who seemed in no better a state.

They climbed up the narrow staircase and stepped out of the secret passage. The awful gaze Moody was directing at the two boys could have melted ice.

"Hello, Professor."

Harry's attempt to act casual was bold. In his mind, they were already in loads of trouble for spying on the meeting as it was. Might as well play it cool.

"Don't be cute, Potter," Moody growled. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Being vigilant."

Moody snorted rudely. "Trying to be funny, are you?"

Harry shook his head. "Not at all, sir. They won't tell us anything, so we decided to find out for ourselves. How are we supposed to be ready when we're kept ignorant?"

"Precisely the argument I made," Moody admitted. "For what it's worth, I thought you should have been told everything straight away, but there's other factors at play here."

Moody's words perked Harry right up. Maybe they wouldn't get in trouble after all.

"But that went only for you. Malfoy, you have no business getting involved. Your father specifically prohibited it."

Draco was shaking his head. "It's not keeping us any safer. We have a right to know."

"Rights," Moody sneered. "I may have to put up with old Lucius, but I don't trust him as far as I can throw him. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater in my book."

"That's not fair, sir," Draco protested. "My father risked his life to save Harry. He betrayed the Dark Lord to his face. We're all dead if he catches us."

"You'd never turn back, eh? Once a turncoat, always a turncoat. Maybe that brother of yours would like to bow and scrape before Voldemort. Hasn't he already been seen wearing the mask and robes?"

Draco scowled. "That's a vicious lie. We've chosen a side."

"You've chosen your own side. You're out to save your own skins."

"The Dark Lord's rage knows no boundaries."

Moody closed his eyes for a moment. Harry didn't move, for he knew that the magical eye was most likely fixed firmly on them both.

"I'm going to require your oath, Malfoy. Your brother's too. If you won't give it, I'm going to tell your father and Dumbledore about this."

"Which oath?" Draco asked instantly. "An Unbreakable Vow?"

"No, if you broke that, you'd just drop dead. I have something a little more creative in mind."

"Well let's go find Elan."

Draco led them down the hall to his older brother's bedroom.

"Elan?" Draco said, knocking on the door. "Open up."

"What is it?"

"Someone wants a word with you."

The door opened, and Elan stood there, still as unkempt as before. Even with company in the house, he'd made no effort whatsoever to appear presentable.

"Moody." Elan's voice was cool.

"Malfoy." Moody's was just as frosty.

"He caught us spying on the meeting."

"I knew you'd get caught. I told you so. Why don't you ever listen to me?"

"He's agreed not to tell Father if we swear an oath."

"An Unbreakable Vow?"

"No, something far more painful."

"You're both going to swear by your magic," Moody said. "If you break this oath, you'll both be reduced to Squibs."

Elan choked. "That's horrible!"

"Yes, isn't it?" Moody said pleasantly. "There's nothing more awful to threaten a pureblood with. Magic is all that you have and all that you are. Without it, you're less than nothing. It's a promise I know you'll keep."

"Why am I being dragged into this?"

"Because you knew what they were about and said nothing. That's accessory before the fact."

Elan scowled. "Very well, Moody. What is this oath?"

Moody drew his wand. "Clasp your wand hands." He began to trace intricate patterns in the air.

"In the name of Merlin, greatest of our kind, I do bind you. Your magic is the security against falsehood. Oathbreakers will become no more than Squibs.

"Will you reject the Dark Lord called Voldemort and all of his empty promises?"

"I will," they said together.

"Will you keep secret anything you know or learn about the Order of the Phoenix?"

"I will."

"Will you accept the consequences for breaking this oath?"

"I will."

With the third vow, the clasped hands began to glow with a silvery light. Moody continued to trace patterns.

"Bah-weep-grana! Weep-ninni-bahm!"

The light flared, blinding Harry momentarily.

"There," Moody said, breathing heavily. "It is done. I'll trust you now, boys, because I trust in your own sense of self-preservation. If you attempt to break your oath, not only will you be unable to speak, but you'll instantly lose your magic. Moreover, I will know it."

"No worries about that, Professor," Draco said. "Now if there's nothing else, we've got a meeting to spy on."

Moody actually gave a small grin. It quickly vanished as he stumped away.

They got back into the secret passage as quickly as they could. Elan joined them now, and they returned just as Dumbledore was finishing up with the latest attacks.

"Going along with the attacks on Muggles are the strikes against Muggleborns and their families. I'm sad to say that some students will not be returning next year."

"Dead?" Sirius asked.

"Some. Others are so fearful that they are refusing to permit the children to come back. I've had several letters."

"A great loss," Shacklebolt remarked. "We need more students, not less."

"Yes, we must get more people to make a stand against the Dark Lord," Diggle said.

"Most of our support has come from the old families," Sirius said, "and we can thank Harry for that. He got to his friends early, and many have decided it's in their own best interests to support the Ministry."

"Still, the Ministry is not the Order," Shacklebolt said. "Have we had any more luck with those families who have not yet made up their minds?"

"Some," Dumbledore answered. "Many are fearful. As you remember, Molly Weasley's brothers died in the last war, so she has been very resistant about getting involved. I've approached her husband Arthur. He knows our cause is righteous, and I may be wearing him down."

"The more Ministry people we can get on our side, the better," Shacklebolt said. "The Dark Lord will have many spies trying to gather information. We'll need to counter that. Weasley isn't very important anymore, not that he ever really was, but I think he's got the sense to use this crisis as an opportunity."

"Kingsley, what can you tell us from the Auror Division?" Sirius asked. "The Dark Lord has had his own personal fortress all summer. Surely we're not going to let him keep it."

"We have finally finished working out the plan. The strike force is being assembled, and as soon as they are equipped, the Aurors will launch their attack against- against-"

Auror Shacklebolt's face grew blank, and he blinked several times. He was speechless for a few seconds. He tried to recover himself.

"Against- against the target. We expect full penetration and maximum body count. If we can kill the Dark Lord, we will. If not, we will capture him."

"Excuse me, Kingsley," Dumbledore interjected. "_Where_ are they striking?"

"I told you," Shacklebolt replied, a drop of sweat rolling down his face.

"No, you didn't."

"You know."

"No," Dumbledore said quietly. "I don't."

The room gasped.

Dumbledore looked Shacklebolt dead in the eye. "Do you remember, Kingsley?"

The pause lasted an eternity. One could have heard a feather drop.

"No."

"We have forgotten where his fortress is," Professor Snape pronounced, the first words he'd yet spoken in the meeting. "The Dark Lord has cast powerful magic."

"The Fidelius Charm." Dumbledore of course knew the answer. "It is the only spell that could affect all of us."

"He's made himself unassailable," Sirius said bitterly.

"The trouble with extremely helpful protective magicks is that the enemy can use them too," Dumbledore observed with a sigh. "I might have expected as much. He was always a quick study. He has seen how well the Fidelius works for us, and so he borrows the tactic."

"Well now what?" Sirius demanded.

"Severus will eventually be summoned and be told the Secret. He cannot reveal it to us, but we may be able to devise ways of utilizing the knowledge."

"What else? How can the Ministry do anything? How can we?"

"We will find a way, Sirius. This too shall pass."

"That's a right blow," Draco whispered. "How are they supposed to fight him if they can't find him?"

"They can't," Elan said shortly. "Merlin's blistering fireballs, why does the Dark Lord have to be smart?"

"Because he's an evil wizard. Being smart kind of goes with the territory."

"Forget him and his territory," Harry said firmly. "I'm going to get him no matter how many rabbits he pulls out of his hat."

"What?" Draco was clearly confused.

"Oh, that's what Muggles call magic. The vanishing cabinet? Sawing a lady in half?"

"What?"

"Have I really never talked about this?" Harry wondered.

"Maybe I wasn't paying attention."

"Well it's all illusion, isn't it? Misdirection. Trickery. Smoke and mirrors."

"Sounds like being a Slytherin."

"Don't be flip."

"I'm not! I really mean that."

"Anyway. Part of the usual magician costume is a top hat. He will take it off his head and show it to the crowd, completely empty. Then he'll put it on the table upside down and cover the opening with a handkerchief. He'll say some rot that's supposed to be magic words, wave a silly black wand with white tips over it, and tap the hat with it Voila! He whips off the handkerchief. He reaches into the hat and pulls out a white bunny rabbit."

"That's absurd. Why would you want a rabbit? What possible use could you have for a rabbit?"

"Stew?"

"Well, there is that."

"Why are we talking about rabbits?" Elan asked, sounding very confused.

"Harry brought it up."

"I was just saying that Fidelius is a neat trick."

"Do they need rabbits to cast the spell?"

"Elan, give it up."

They turned back to the meeting.

"Igor Karkaroff is dead," Snape said. "The Death Eaters caught up with him over Portugal. His head is currently mounted on a spike in the yard at the prison. The Dark Lord considers it a motivating display. Certainly no one wishes to join it."

Dumbledore sighed. He shook his head slightly, suddenly seeming very sad. "He also turned against Voldemort?"

"He was too cowardly to return. When he felt the summons, he ran, but there is no river he could cross, no mountain he could climb, that would put him beyond the Dark Lord's wrath."

"I assume he suffered greatly before he was allowed to die."

"He lasted only half a day."

"I never thought much of Karkaroff," Harry said, "but he didn't seem the Death Eater sort."

Draco snorted. "He was exactly the Death Eater sort."

They looked back to the meeting, but things seemed to be wrapping up. The boys hurried to get back to Elan's room where they were supposed to be keeping out of the way.

"Quick, get out the cards," Draco said.

When Sirius came to collect Harry, they were well into a game of Exploding Snap. Draco was winning, and Elan was nursing sore fingers.

"Ready to go home?" Sirius asked.

"But I am home," Draco replied cheekily.

"Draco, you would be a much more pleasant lad if you didn't insist on being such a smartass."

"It's part of my charm."

"Is that what you call it?"

"Good night, Harry. See you tomorrow."

"Cheers, mate. G'night, Elan."

"Later, Harry. Draco, put that card back!"

Leaving the brothers to squabble over the game, Harry and Sirius headed downstairs to the courtyard where Mrs. Malfoy and Remus were chatting casually.

"Shall we?" Remus asked.

"We shall. It's long past dinner time."

Harry was getting so used to Apparition that he barely felt any dizziness at all. He headed directly for the dining room, where Kreacher served a sumptuous meal for the three famished wizards. Mr. Malfoy had eaten earlier and was writing more correspondence for the Ministry war effort. When he had finished eating, Remus turned in early, leaving Harry and Sirius alone.

"Sirius?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I spied on the Order meeting."

"I see. All of it?"

"Lots of it."

"So that's where Moody went. You saw everything?"

"Heard more than saw."

"So you know about Voldemort's fortress?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's awful, isn't it? What are we going to do? How can we hope to beat him when we don't even know where he is?"

"We'll figure something out."

"How?"

"We're going to be clever. We're going to out-think this."

"Good thing Snape's working on it," Harry said.

"Yes, Snape's always been a tricky one."

"So you're not mad I disobeyed you?"

Sirius sighed. "Harry, I want to. Believe me, I want very much to be upset with you, but I just can't bring myself to do it. You are your father's son. He snuck around and got into mischief, a great deal of it with me. You sneak around and get into mischief too. You do realize the deck has been stacked against me since day one? Lily, now, she would have her knickers in a knot. For her sake, I am going to punish you."

"Right, I'm grounded," Harry said seriously. "No leaving the house, no trips to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, and no Floo access."

"You're also going to bed at eight o'clock," Sirius added. "I know there's not a lot I can take away from you, but you are grounded."

"Sirius!"

"No, Harry, you didn't do as you were told, and now there's a consequence. Every night until you go back to school, bedtime is at eight."

Harry grumbled a bit, but deep down he knew he deserved to be punished a bit. He'd deliberately disobeyed, and now he had to pay the piper.

"Now then, it's become clear to me that you're going to get involved whether we want you to or not. So, we need you to work with us, and we need to do it without Dumbledore finding out."

"Then let's go talk to the one person who will keep my secret even though he doesn't want to."

Sirius' eyes clouded with confusion for only a moment. "Snape?"

"Professor Snape. He's my Head of House."

"You trust Snape that much?"

"I do. He's already keeping at least one huge secret for me."

"What's that?"

"The basilisk. He knows she's still alive, and he didn't tell Dumbledore."

"I didn't realize that. Well, what do you know? Maybe Snape is the right one to talk to."

* * *

The next day, Sirius brought Harry up to Hogwarts. They went immediately down to the dungeons. Harry led the way to Professor Snape's office and knocked firmly on the door.

"Enter."

Harry opened the door. "Hello, Professor."

"Mister Potter, what brings you to my door today?"

"Order business," Harry said bluntly.

"You are not in the Order."

"I want to be. I should be. I want to fight."

"He's in earnest, Snape. Go on, Harry."

"I say this to you as my Head of House," Harry said. "I want it to stay between us."

"So it shall."

"I spied on the Order meeting last night."

Snape was startled, something not often achieved. He raised an eyebrow and glanced at Sirius.

"I'll keep doing it, too. I'm going to face him again. He'll see to it, even if I don't. I've got to be ready."

"This is true. Many times this summer, he has proclaimed his desire to slay you."

"Will you help me, sir?"

Snape considered the question for a whole minute. "Yes, Harry, I will help you. In so much as I am able, I will help."

"We want to tell you as much as we can, Harry," Sirius said, "and there's something very important that you should be aware of. Tell him what's in the Department of Mysteries, Snape."

"You cannot be serious, Black."

"I'll save the joke. I mean it, Snape. Tell him."

"I thought you wanted to know about raids and information-gathering, who the Death Eaters are trying to corrupt, and so on."

"This is more important."

Snape folded his hands and gazed steadily at Harry, saying nothing. Harry once again felt the crazy feeling he sometimes got that Snape could read his mind.

"Have you ever wondered why the Dark Lord so desires to kill you, Mister Potter?"

"Yes!" Harry said fervently. "Nobody will answer the question."

"Sixteen years ago, there was a prophecy given predicting that the Dark Lord would be defeated. I overheard it as it was being uttered. This was before I saw the error of my past ways, and I told the Dark Lord every word I heard."

"Will you tell me?"

"There is no risk in telling you what the Dark Lord already knows. 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies.'"

At last! Harry finally knew why he'd been a target, why his parents had been murdered. The mystery of his life, always tantilizingly out of reach, was now revealed. A prophecy. A vision that he would wield great power and destroy Voldemort.

Oddly, he should have been terrified but was not. He'd known for four years that he would one day seek out Voldemort and try to kill him. Now he knew he could succeed. That knowledge gave him a warm feeling of security.

"There is more to it, but that is all I heard. It is all I told the Dark Lord."

"How can we find the rest of it out?"

"The only one who knows is the person who heard it."

"Who is that?"

"Dumbledore."

"It always comes back to that old wizard," Harry rued bitterly.

"That's enough, Mister Potter," Snape said sternly. "Dumbledore has done more to advance the cause of Light than any other in the modern era. His wisdom is immeasurable."

"More like invisible," Harry muttered, but deeply under his breath.

"But we don't need to ask him," Sirius said. "Recorded prophecies are kept in the Department of Mysteries. This prophecy is there too."

"I want to go have a listen."

"Now that may be a bit more problematic. Only people named in prophecy are permitted to hear it."

"Why?" Harry demanded petulantly.

"A powerful curse lays over the Hall of Prophecy," Snape said. "To remove a prophecy engenders madness unless one is named in it."

"I'm not about to take you out in public. There are far too many unknown factors at the Ministry. I won't have us walk into a trap."

"But Sirius!"

"No." His godfather's voice was very firm. "It will wait. It's enough that you know you have the power to win. Voldemort was already trying to kill your parents. When he heard of this prophecy, he knew it could be his undoing. He came after you, and we all know what happened as a result. You are the only one with the power and ability to destroy him.

Sirius was right. Whatever else the prophecy might say, Harry knew enough. He would not fail in his quest.

There was little else to say, so Sirius and Harry left Snape to his brewing. Harry wanted to go see Theo since they were at school anyway. They found him in the library.

"Hey, Theo." Harry shivered as Theo's eyes pierced him. It truly was like the lights were on but nobody was home. "Good to see you out and about."

Theo turned back to the book in front of him. His unkempt brown hair, which was longer than it had ever been, fell forward and obscured his face.

"Did you catch the match between Portree and Wimbourne a couple of nights ago?" Quidditch would be a safe topic that might get Theo talking again.

Theo shook his head. He flipped the page.

"Portree won, six hundred to four hundred. The snitch just did not want to come out and play. All in all it lasted three hours. Sam O'Neill set a club scoring record."

Theo didn't seem to care.

And so it went with anything Harry mentioned. After failing to elicit interest in Quidditch, the on-going Lockhart scandal, the difficulty of the holiday assignments, and Wand Smasher's new album, Harry lapsed into silence himself. He pulled a copy of Hogwarts: A History off the shelf and began to read.

They remained for about an hour, reading together in silence, when Theo yawned and stood up. He did look at Harry with what seemed like a grateful expression, then he headed for the door.

Sensing that the visit had come to an end, Harry and Sirius Apparated back to Grimmauld Place, and Harry threw himself into his Apparition practice with renewed determination.

Over lunch, Sirius and Mr. Malfoy talked about the war effort. Harry tried to pay attention, but the Ministry budget really was dead boring. He couldn't care less how the Ministry found the Galleons needed to pay for this or that training program. Only when the talk turned to other matters did Harry perk up a bit.

"Now then, I have spoken to many fine citizens in the past months," Mr. Malfoy said, swirling his wine in the glass. "Excellent colour, this, cousin. My compliments." He sipped a tiny bit and smiled as it rolled over his tongue.

"Thank you, Lucius."

"Two people who have not returned my correspondence are Hector Goyle and Basil Crabbe. I am certain that they have given into their fear and committed themselves to the Dark Lord. Given that their boys share a dormitory with our boys, this is particularly bothersome. I am quite obviously reluctant to call on them in person or through the Floo."

"So what do you have in mind?" Sirius asked.

"If they will not respond to me, perhaps they will respond to Harry."

"Crabbe and Goyle promised me they wouldn't get caught up in some stupid plot."

"The Imperius Curse can make one break any promise."

"They were rubbish at resisting it," Harry remembered.

"It is a good sign that they do not want to be Death Eaters, but they might not have a choice about it. Their fathers could pressure and intimidate them into it. We need to persuade Basil and Hector that they should change their play."

"You think they'll respond if I write to them?"

"It is worth trying. See if you can set up a meeting so that you all can talk. They have heard the Dark Lord's terms. Maybe they will like ours better."

"You gents take care of the letters," Sirius said. "I'm going to call Director Bones and call in a favour."

"You have favours with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?" Mr. Malfoy asked with slight astonishment.

"I have _unlimited_ favours with MLE. Funny what sort of terms you can wrangle when suing the government for millions of Galleons. Everyone wants to be my friend."

"You may claim to hate the game, cousin, but you play it extremely well."

"I am a Black," Sirius said with a twisted smile. "We learn the game in our cradles."

Harry fetched quill and ink. He was particularly fond of this quill set, a gift as it had been from Mr. and Mrs. Crabbe for Christmas his first year at Hogwarts. He dutifully wrote the phrases that Mr. Malfoy instructed him to write. Regal was sent on his way, with instructions not to wait for a reply.

It took a bit of back and forth, but eventually the meetings had been set. Hogsmeade. Hogs Head inn. Harry, Sirius, Mr. Crabbe and his son, and Mr. Goyle and his son.

Sirius' firecall to Director Bones had been very productive. The Aurors had been alerted to the meeting and were waiting nearby, to arrest the two Death Eaters if they could not be persuaded to turn against Voldemort.

Harry sat at a booth with Sirius. Remus was sitting nearby, hood drawn up to conceal his identity. Several other patrons, in reality Aurors in disguise, were in the bar at this time of the day, so they did not look completely obvious.

Goyle arrived first. He walked behind his father, not looking up as they approached the table.

"Mister Goyle," Harry said. He stood to greet the man politely. Though he could have sat and projected his superior status, common courtesy went a long way. Sitting was what Voldemort would do.

"Harry," Mr. Goyle said gruffly.

"Will you sit?"

They did.

"When my son told me you wanted to speak with me, I dismissed him. I wanted no part of anyone my master wants to kill. Instead of accepting my word, my son was very rude to me. I raised him right, so I knew there must be a reason. Here I am. What do you want to say to me?"

"I want you to reject your master," Harry said immediately. If he wanted to get down to business, so be it. "I want you to consider just how bad of an idea it is to support him."

"I thought as much," Mr. Goyle said. "It would be a worse idea to support you, Harry. The depths of the Dark Lord's cruelty and imagination know no boundaries. What can you offer me to risk such torments?"

"The promise of not tormenting you?" Harry replied cheekily. "Those who fight with me do so because they choose to, not because they are threatened."

"You are but a boy. You cannot know the Dark Lord's power."

"I _have_ the Dark Lord's power," Harry declared. "Shall I demonstrate? _Serpensortia!_" The snake that emerged from Harry's wand was non-poisonous, but the markings were similar to those of a deadly species.

"Snakes!" Mr. Goyle yelped.

"_Come here to me_," Harry commanded the snake. He held out his hand. The snake slithered towards him and wrapped itself around his hand and arm. "_Rest for now_."

All of the blood had drained from Mr. Goyle's face. He was the colour of raw bread dough.

"P-p-parseltongue!"

"I speak it. Snakes are mine to command. All snakes. Even the king of snakes would obey me."

Harry let him digest that tidbit for a few seconds.

"Voldemort's powers are not unique. He gained them somehow. He just happens to have a lot of them, but he can be fought. He can be beaten. He can be defeated. Help me to do it."

Mr. Goyle continued to stare at the snake. He was not a man of towering intellectual capacity, and Harry's little display seemed to have quite overwhelmed him. His mouth worked silently.

"He is not unbeatable. The more people who join the fight, the sooner his power will crumble and he will fall. Don't you want to be on the right side when that happens?"

Mr. Goyle wasn't responding.

"Think about your family," Harry implored. "Don't you want them to be able to live without fear? To be able to raise their heads without incurring the wrath of a madman? Damn it, man, where's your pride?"

Mr. Goyle's head snapped up. Something like fire burned in his tiny eyes.

"If you choose him, all you are is a lacky. You'll bow and scrape and prostrate yourself before him. If you're lucky you'll avoid being tortured. Sounds like loads of fun to me." Harry couldn't help his sarcasm. "If you choose me, once he's undone and destroyed, you can go do whatever you want."

"But who can stand against him?"

"Dumbledore, for one," Harry said, knowing that Goyle would know it was true, "and he hasn't had much luck with me either."

Harry stared Goyle, Sr. down. Every ounce of his willpower was bent on convincing the man to make the right choice. He barely blinked, and only when Goyle looked away. Time and again, his eyes came back to Harry's. Sweat beaded on his brow.

"All right," Goyle burst out. "All right." He lowered his face into his hands. "Merlin preserve us, I don't want to live like that."

"That's good," Harry said, relief flooding through him. "Then you'll join us?"

"Yes."

Sirius stood up and guided Mr. Goyle out the back door to where the Aurors waited. They took him away to headquarters to debrief him. Sirius returned to the table.

"Good show."

"I'm glad he saw sense."

"I hope Crabbe's dad does the same."

They had set the second meeting an hour after the first. Harry and Sirius ordered lunch. The last dishes were just being cleared away when Mr. Crabbe arrived. He was alone.

Harry stood to greet him.

Crabbe crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, I'm here. Say your piece."

"Let's sit."

"I don't intend to stay long."

This wasn't going well.

"I'm here to offer you a way out. You don't have to serve Voldemort anymore."

Crabbe flinched. "Don't say his name. He can hear when you do. He is all-powerful. I dare not oppose him."

"He's not all-powerful."

"He is."

"His powers are not unique," Harry said, feeling things starting to slip away. "Let me show you. _Serpensortia!_"

The same sort of snake emerged from his wand and slithered across the table. Crabbe's eyes widened, but to his credit, he didn't flinch away.

"_Come to me_," Harry hissed. The snake coiled around his forearm.

"Yes, Vincent told me you could speak to snakes. That is very impressive, but it is insignificant next to the power of the Dark Lord."

"He has failed to kill me several times now."

"Luck."

"Or incompetence." Harry knew he was being a bit cheeky with that comment, but he couldn't help himself. "He fears me, you know. He knows I can beat him. Why else would he have tried to kill me so many times? What did I ever do to him?"

Crabbe didn't answer.

"I have the power to fight him. I can destroy him. You should be with me when it happens."

"You won't be destroying anybody, Potter."

Crabbe's right arm came up, wand in his hand, somehow drawn on the sly.

"_Avada-_"

Sirius sent the table flying without a single magic word, smashing the wood into Crabbe again and again. Swears and oaths were shouted, and the undercover Aurors at the bar cast their own spells. Within moments, Crabbe was neatly trussed like a Christmas turkey with his wand rolling slightly on the floor beside him.

Sirius put his own wand away and knelt down to peer in Crabbe's face.

"That was really stupid, Crabbe. So tremendously, colossally stupid, it defies description. You just earned yourself a life sentence in wizard prison, my friend."

"There is no prison!" Crabbe snarled.

"So I'm powerfully curious to see just what they're going to do to you, Death Eater," Sirius said pleasantly. "Take him away!"

Harry still sat at the booth, frozen with shock.

"Crabbe's dad just tried to kill me."

"Bloody foolish, too," Sirius said, "but let's not waste time. Take my hand."

They Apparated back to Grimmauld Place.

"I'm getting better at this. Having to drag you along everywhere is certainly sharpening my skills."

"I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there. I can go from one room to another now."

"That's excellent, and you're almost there. Now you just need to be able to go long distances. Try going from floor to floor. In fact, now's a perfect time for a lesson."

"I think I'm too distracted to try," Harry said. "I'd Splinch myself. Crabbe's dad tried to kill me."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I just need to think about it for awhile. Maybe later."

"I'm here for you, Harry. Whenever you need me."

"Thanks, Sirius."

"But if you're up for it, this does seem like a good opportunity to show you all about Locking Hexes."

Harry nodded. He paid close attention as Sirius showed him how to cast a containment field, cast the spells, harmonize the thing and so on. Nonetheless, over and over in his mind, Basil Crabbe's wand flashed out and the terrible words tumbled from his lips. In Harry's imagination, horrible scenarios played out.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" The words of the curse were completed, and green light flared at the tip of his wand. Sirius, having seen the wand, lunged forward, knocking Harry aside, but the green light struck him in the chest. He stopped, standing still, a sort of confused question in his face. Then he fell over forward. He lay on the ground and didn't move.

Harry interrupted Sirius' lesson with a sudden hug. He wrapped his arms tight around his godfather and held on. Sirius was a bit surprised by the show of affection, but he squeezed Harry right back.

"It's all right, Harry."

"It could have gone so bad."

"But it didn't. We all went home safely."

"What if he'd gotten that spell off?"

"No chance. It takes too long to say. I already had my wand out just in case, and when he went for his, I moved the table. It would have taken the first curse, and then I would have had my wand in his eye. Trust me, Harry, we've planned many clandestine meetings. We've learned a lot from things that went bad."

"I know." Harry knew Sirius and Remus knew what they were doing. Mr. Malfoy also had a hand in the plan, so it was that much stronger. It still rankled at him. "I'm just worried about you."

"I know, but we do everything we can to minimize the risk. We plan, and we prepare."

Harry felt somewhat better. He tightened his hug for a few moments and then relaxed.

"Thanks, Sirius. Now about this Locking Hex."


	8. Educational Decree Number Twenty-Two

**Chapter Eight - Educational Decree Number Twenty-Two**

Harry went back to school today.

He woke early and bathed quickly. He dressed neatly, glad he'd laid out his clothes last night. New robes fit him perfectly, and the silver prefect's badge gleamed on his chest. His hair was neatly cut but messily styled. He ran his fingers through it a few times, having packed his comb neatly at the bottom of his trunk.

"Oh, very handsome!" the mirror gushed. He had laughed when he'd first opened Elan's birthday present, but to his surprise the Reflective Friend (TM) was anything but a flatterer. It offered the occasionally harsh criticism of one's appearance but also expert techniques and spells for improvements.

"Thanks, Shoshi," Harry said, and he headed down to breakfast.

Sirius and Mr. Malfoy were sitting at the dining room table drinking tea and eating pastries.

"Harry, good morning." Sirius paused. "I wish your parents could see you now."

Harry nodded. He didn't trust himself to answer that, but he wished the same thing.

"I'm excited," he said instead. "Maybe a little worried. I want to do it well, after all. Don't want to be a swot of it, right?"

"Certainly not."

Remus came into the dining room and sat down. He buttered himself a roll and began to eat. When he'd gotten at least a bit of food in him, he said, "Good morning, everyone. Today's the big day, eh, Harry?"

"It is. I hope I'm as good to the firsties as the prefects were to me."

"You're going to be fine," Remus replied confidently. "I know Sirius has been teasing you a lot about enforcing the rules, but I will one final time implore you to remember your responsibilities. Do _try_ to not let the fun get out of hand."

"I will, Remus."

Harry knew it would be impossible to keep all of his friends from abiding by all school rules all of the time in the strictest fashion. He wasn't quite sure where his limits were going to be. Truth be told, he was going to play the whole thing by ear and judge any situation on its own merits. He'd been on the receiving end of summary judgment several times, notably by Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House. It was no fun to not have a chance to explain.

"I wonder who the other prefects are going to be."

"Who's the other from Slytherin again?" Remus asked.

"Pansy."

"Ah, yes. She hasn't heard who the others will be?"

"Not that she's said, anyway. She might be holding it for gossip on the train."

"Who's the Head Boy and Girl?"

"Cedric Diggory, from Hufflepuff, and Alicia Spinnet, from Gryffindor."

A few days beforehand, Harry had gotten a thick envelope by owl from the pair informing him of their new positions, welcoming him to the prefects council, and detailing how they would all work together for the betterment of the school. He'd read it eagerly, feeling more excited about his new responsibilities when learning that he might be called on to teach a lesson to younger students if a professor was ill or called away.

As a sixth year, Diggory'd been chosen as the Triwizard Champion from Hogwarts. He'd found his way to the centre of the maze in roughly the same amount of time as Harry. He was the best; surely nobody would be surprised he'd been selected as Head Boy.

Spinnet was one of Gryffindor's Chasers, and she might even be the team captain this year. Wood had left school after Harry's third year, and with no Quidditch because of the Triwizard Tournament, there had been no need to replace him. Would Spinnet be able to handle being captain and Head Girl in addition to the N.E.W.T.s?

It was going to be an interesting experience being a prefect, no doubts about it. He wasn't all that close with the other Slytherin prefects. Now they'd be having council and such, looking out for the interests of the house. It was a little daunting, but Harry knew the others would help him cope.

"Are you all packed?" Sirius asked.

"Just about. Only a few last minutes. All the important stuff is in there."

"All your homework done?"

"Yes, Sirius," Harry said, trying to avoid smiling. "I've been done for forever."

"Just checking."

After breakfast, Harry went back up to his room. He had grown to like his room very much. It had been his for over a year now, and he had arranged things to his liking. He had decorated as he saw fit.

Posters of his favourite Quidditch team, the Montrose Magpies, re-enacted the Scottish Cup final of 1992, when O'Ryan had caught the snitch whilst interfering with a shot on her team's hoops and managing to make it look like an accident. The lack of that goal had made the final score 300 to 290 with the victory going to Montrose.

Posters for some of his favourite bands silently jammed out. Wand Smasher was prevalent, with Edgar, Agatha, Emma, Stan, and Kevin all going absolutely wild. It was a scene from Harry's first show, when they'd finished their last song of the night and vanished off the stage in a tidal wave of flame.

It was a far cry from the empty room that he'd been allowed to have at Number Four once the Hogwarts letters began arriving. It was even further from the cupboard under the stairs where he'd slept for the ten years before that. Every time Harry looked around his room now, he thanked his lucky stars, even though Professor Sinistra had debunked the concept for them back in first year.

He had always been excited on the morning of 1 September. It had meant escaping from the Dursleys and going back to Hogwarts where he'd met his real friends. Now that he'd come to live with his godfather, going off to school was touched with sadness and regret for the first time.

Last year had been somewhat easier to deal with than this year was. They'd only had the summer together before Harry had to board the Hogwarts Express and head back north. Then the damned tournament had happened, and Sirius had moved into a cramped room at the Hogs Head inn in order to be near Harry during his trial. This past summer, they'd been cooped up together every day, and they'd run in the night as Animagi. By Merlin, Harry was going to miss Sirius something awful.

Homesickness was entirely new to Harry, and he found he didn't care for it very much. While living at Number Four, he'd always wished for a long-lost relative to come and take him away. It had finally happened, and now Harry didn't want to leave his home. His eyes seemed to want to linger everywhere, soaking in every detail, preparing himself for the months when he would have only his memories.

Harry gathered his toothbrush and bath kit and put them in his trunk. Shoshi the Reflective Friend (TM) was carefully packed away in her box and securely stowed. He took one last look around.

"Okay, then," he said aloud.

The Shrinking Charm was one of the most useful bits of magic Sirius had ever shown him. With a quick wave of his wand, his school trunk was in an inner pocket of his robes. All he needed otherwise was his helmet and a moneypouch.

He sheathed his wand and picked up his helmet, running his fingers over the stylized flames. He hadn't been able to go out on the motorbike hardly at all this summer. He'd been so busy he hadn't noticed, but now he missed what could have, should have been.

He took the stairs two at a time down to the ground floor. Remus met him at the bottom, a light brown cloak wrapped around his shoulders. He looked ready to be going out.

"Good luck on the sales, Remus."

"Thank you, Harry. It's supposed to be nice out. Have a safe journey. I'll see you on the Hogsmeade weekend."

"Bye."

Mr. Malfoy, who had been very quiet during breakfast, was still in the dining room, nursing a cup of tea. Harry poked his head in.

"We're going now, Mister Malfoy. Good-bye."

"It's so very unfair, isn't it?" Mr. Malfoy said, not looking up. "I can't even go to the station to bid my son good-bye. I will no longer even be able to visit Hogwarts without drawing undue danger upon the students."

"There'll be holidays," Harry said, trying to stay positive. "Christmas, Easter. Maybe Sirius can bring Draco back during a Hogsmeade weekend."

"Perhaps."

There was an uncomfortable silence for several moments.

"I have to go."

"Please give Draco my greetings and affections. I am sorry to not be there in person."

"I will."

Harry left Draco's father sitting at the dining room table, holding his cup of tea, which he hadn't touched.

Sirius had the motorbike revved up and ready to go. Harry strapped his helmet on and ran down the steps. He threw his leg over the seat and settled into place behind Sirius. With a roar of the engine, they sped out into the streets of London. The ride to King's Cross station was very short by the motorbike, and Harry climbed off regretfully after Sirius brought the bike to a complete and total stop. After Harry had locked his helmet to the seat, Sirius magic-locked the motorbike to prevent ambitious Muggle hijackers, and they walked into the station.

Finding the space between Platforms Nine and Ten, they crossed over to Nine and Three-Quarters. On the platform, Harry reversed the Shrinking Charm on his luggage. They headed for the train.

"You've gotten quite good with that."

"I've had practice."

"Practice makes perfect."

"Actually not true," Harry said. "Practice makes permanent. You do something over and over again and you'll do it the same way every time, but only _perfect_ practice will make perfect permanent. Then you'll be perfect every time."

"Speaking of perfect every time, here comes someone who thinks he is."

"Perfect? Did someone say my name? Hello, Harry. Hello, Sirius."

"Hi, Draco."

"Hello, Draco. Where's your mother?"

"There was an unexpected situation that needed her attention at home."

"She left you?"

"No, not really."

"Well why are you just walking around where anyone can see you?"

Draco looked ready to burst. "Just let it go, please, Sirius."

"I can't believe she's so irresponsible."

"She's not! Look." Draco sighed. He leaned in close. "Sheputahouseelfonme."

"What?"

"She put a house elf on me. Dobby's hiding in my pocket. At the first sign of trouble, he's to leap to my defence."

Draco sounded utterly disgusted at having a house elf protecting him.

"I've found a compartment. Let's go."

Harry and Sirius embraced almost fiercely.

"Remember your mirror. I'm a moment away if you need me."

"Things should be back to normal this year."

"Define 'normal'."

Harry snickered. "You win. You take care. Whatever missions you go on, make sure you come back from them."

"My most important mission is to raise you, Harry. I'll never abandon it."

Harry felt himself choke up. He hugged Sirius again.

Draco led the way on to the train and to the compartment he had claimed for the now fifth year Slytherins. Harry stacked his trunk with Draco's on the overhead rack.

"Anyone else around yet?"

"Theo is already at Hogwarts," Draco said. "Crabbe and Goyle are three cars down. It was the only other empty place we could find."

Pansy and Daphne were the next to arrive. They both wore their school robes over casual clothing. Pansy wore a nice black jumper and a grey skirt. Her black hair was loose and held back from her face with a headband. Daphne had on a pair of dark blue slacks that seemed a bit tight, particularly along the legs. Her beige jumper could not hide the figure Harry had seen in the swimming pool. The two girls were giggling uncontrollably.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"We just overheard Angelina Johnson tell Katie Bell that she went all the way with Fred Weasley."

Harry felt his face get hot. "That's funny," he said, chuckling weakly. "Good for them."

"What, on the train?" Draco asked cheekily.

"No, over the holiday," Daphne said, still giggling. "They're seventh-years, and they've got their Apparition licenses since last spring. Apparently they wrote a few letters, set up a secret rendezvous, and had a short evening of torrid passion before they had to take a break, and-"

"Oh my!" Draco said, raising his eyebrows. "Well, I know _I'll_ never sleep well again. Thanks so much, Daphne-love."

"Pain shared is pain lessened."

"So you say every time."

"You never seem to remember."

The whistle blew loudly as the steam engine revved up. The train began to chug slowly forward, gradually picking up speed. Parents and guardians waved from the platform that was fast being left behind. Teenage faces were pressed to the glass windows, looking for one last glimpse. The train kept moving, and the station quickly faded from sight.

Pansy stood up.

"Harry, we need to go to the prefect's meeting."

"Meetings? Already?" Daphne asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Yes. Diggory wants to have some organization bit before we even get there. Probably going to be the same rubbish they sent in that packet."

"You didn't read it?" Harry asked.

"No, did you?"

"Yes."

Pansy shook her head.

"Waste of time, Harry. We've seen our prefects in action for the past four years. I know what they do and how they do it. If I have any questions, I can ask, right?"

"You're going to be lots of fun," Harry observed.

"Now, don't you kids get up to anything while the prefects are gone," Pansy cautioned Draco and Daphne, whom they were leaving alone.

"What, snog this pillock?" Daphne said, giving Draco a playful shove. "Not unless there's money for charity involved. One charity deserves another, don't you think?"

"Don't be surprised if Daphne's not here when you come back," Draco said. "She's getting herself in lots of trouble already, and will doubtless do even moreso once you're gone."

"Have fun," Harry said, feeling sorry for Draco.

Coming up the corridor were Miles Bletchley and Heather Chandler, the seventh-year prefects, followed by David Palce and Samantha Warrington who represented sixth-year.

"Good, you're on the way. We were just coming to find you," Heather said.

"How are we all going to fit in one compartment?" Pansy asked.

"There are spells to expand it," Heather replied. "Good thing, too, otherwise we'd have to wait until tomorrow at the soonest to have our first meeting."

"Hang back after," Bletchley said. "We'll have one of our own."

The prefects compartment was at the very front of the train. It looked no bigger than a normal car from the outside, but inside it was very spacious. Harry had seen these spells once before, when Elan Malfoy had cast them in order that all the Slytherins could ride together with him.

The prefects council was comprised of two members, one male and one female, of each form from each house. There were twenty-four members in total. Harry knew from hearing older students talk that meetings could be lively affairs unless the Head Boy and Head Girl kept a firm control of things.

This year's Head Boy stood up as the last of the Slytherins entered the room.

"Good. Close the door, please, and let's begin. Welcome back to Hogwarts, everyone. I'm glad to find you all in such good health. For our new members who may not know me by sight, I am Cedric Diggory, and I am the Head Boy. The Head Girl here is Alicia Spinnet, and she would like to say a few words of welcome as well. Alicia?"

"Thank you, Cedric. Hi, everyone! Glad to be back and all that. There's a lot going on this year, so let's get down to it. First things first, the introductions."

Harry was pleased to see that Ron Weasley was not present. That meant Harry could dock him points and give him detention. He couldn't wait for the first confrontation.

Instead of the Weasel, Gryffindor was represented by Neville Longbottom, of all people. He looked very nervous sitting amongst all the rest of the prefects, as though he felt he didn't really belong.

In all of his excitement over being a prefect, Harry had forgotten that Padma was likely to be a prefect as well. When she announced herself, Harry felt his stomach lurch a bit. Hopefully they would manage to be discrete about their break-up and not have an ugly scene here in the prefect's council.

The last person he knew was Hannah Abbott. The blonde Hufflepuff had gotten even prettier over the summer, and she'd been quite fetching to start with. He smiled at her as she acknowledged the roll. She glanced over at him, and her eyes widened. She smiled back. Harry felt a surge of something he couldn't quite define. It was that feeling he'd come to associate with pretty girls.

Some names he recognized from Quidditch, like Vicky Frobisher, Airen Summerby and Roger Davies. Harry tried to keep all the others straight. Really, he tried, but he couldn't tell Connie Rookwood from Stephanie Atkinson or Janet Newman.

When it was his turn, he rotely said, "Harry Potter."

"Pansy Parkinson," she said immediately, not giving anyone a chance to react to Harry's name.

"Miles Bletchley." The roll call went on.

Harry looked over at Pansy and smiled. She was smooth. She fluttered her eyelashes at him.

The roll call concluded.

"Now then, let's go over the duties of your office. You all should have received a letter from Alicia and I over the summer, yes? How many of you actually read it?"

All of the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, but only some of the Hufflepuffs, raised their hands. Harry was the sole Slytherin.

Diggory sighed. "I had hoped to find myself mistaken. Okay, congratulations. Now we have to waste time on this, and the meeting will go even longer."

"In that case, can we hold it to the end, and we who read it can leave early?" asked Goldstein, a fifth year from Ravenclaw.

"No," Diggory said. "This is important stuff, and I want to say it before everyone goes to sleep. I remember last year's meetings. There will be order in this chamber. Alicia and I will co-chair this assembly with equal authority. We will recognize individuals to speak and may revoke that recognition at will."

Spinnet continued. "Any motion put before us must be seconded. There must be discussion on all motions. Any member may seek recognition and call for a vote at any time. Such a motion must be seconded. Cedric and I will vote as representatives of our respective houses on any motions before the council. In the event of a tie, Cedric and I will issue a tie-breaking vote as Head Boy and Girl. In the event that we cannot make agreement, the issue is regarded as too divisive and fails."

Diggory switched topics. "Our mandate is to provide leadership to the students and assistance to the staff. You may be called upon to assist a teacher by taking over a lesson in a pinch. You are responsible for the conduct of other students when a teacher is not present. You are authorized to award or take house points and assign detentions. You are also permitted to use magic to enforce the rules if you deem such action necessary.

"Are there any questions so far?"

There were none.

"Good. This is going to be a good year," Spinnet declared. "We're going to see Quidditch again, and I know we're all happy about that."

"Hear, hear!" said those prefects who were also on the house teams.

"Once the Welcoming feast is over, it's the job of prefects to escort firsties to the common room. Make sure you count them during the Sorting and don't lose track of any.

"The password to the prefect's bathroom is 'dragon tamer'. For the fifth years who may not know, it's located on the fifth floor. Find the statue of Boris the Bewildered and try the fourth door to the left. Yes, there is only one entrance, but the magic of Hogwarts prevents boys and girls from co-mingling. Even if a boy and a girl try to walk in at the same time, they'll wind up in different rooms. Inconvenient? Yes, certainly, but not unreasonable."

Harry snickered at that, as did most of the rest of the prefects.

Diggory cleared his throat to restore order. "Your Heads of House will have the class schedules. Make sure all the first year students get them. Remember that Hogwarts is a big place, can be kinda scary, and that these firsties might get lost. Help them out wherever you can.

"Last thing, and then you can go. The world is a pretty scary place right now with the war back on. Remember that your fellow students may be affected by events that take place outside the castle walls. Offer to listen if they want to talk. We've got to help each other find a way through this."

"We're going to have our next meeting in ten days," Spinnet said. "That's all we've got to say. Anyone have anything they want to say?"

Nobody did.

"Motion to adjourn," Spinnet said.

"Second," Diggory said. "All in favor?"

Everyone stood up and began to move for the door of the compartment without bothering for the vote to be tallied.

"Hi, Harry," Hannah said, smiling at him as she walked out of the compartment.

"Hi, Hannah," he replied. "Good hols?"

"Nothing too different than last summer, really. Spent most of my time out by the pool."

It showed. Her blonde hair was very sun-bleached, contrasting sharply against her dark tan.

"Wish I could have come over for a dip. I couldn't leave the house, what with Voldemort being back and all."

Hannah shivered as he said the forbidden name. "I would have liked to have had you over."

"Oi, Potter, Parkinson," said Bletchley. "Wait up a minute."

"Excuse me, Hannah," Harry said, silently wishing Bletchley had a better sense of timing.

"Of course, Harry. See you later."

Heather Chandler waved her wand, and a door shimmered into existence. She opened it, and all the Slytherin prefects stepped into an empty compartment.

"Welcome to an august company," Heather said. "You are Slytherin prefects. Slytherins are the best. Our prefects are the best of the best. You are here not just because of marks, or sport, or any other single factor, but because you are fine examples of what it means to be Slytherin. Professor Snape chose you both. Do not disappoint him or us. If you get caught breaking rules, do your utmost to spin it around and make it look like you are catching rule-breakers. My advice is not to get caught. Do nothing to dishonour the silver badges you wear."

"The password to the common room is 'unity'," Bletchley said. "We must remember our unity as a house and not let outside forces tear us apart. War has come. We will think and move as one. We are Slytherin, and our first duty is to each other. I will not tolerate any dissension this year. Too much is at stake. If we step wrong, we will be destroyed, and I will not see it happen. We will protect our own. We will not let any harm come to our children in our great house.

"Blood has already been spilled. This information is strictly confidential, but Professor Snape thought we needed to know. Theo Nott poisoned his father rather than serve the Dark Lord."

Pansy gasped and looked to Harry. He nodded gravely. Her eyes narrowed sharply in thought.

"Who knows what's going on with most of our friends and the littler ones? House policy is that we look out for each other, and you are the instruments of that policy. Things have the great potential to get out of hand very quickly this year. We must keep the war from tearing the house apart."

Miles pointed at Harry. "This fellow here has been targeted by the Dark Lord. Like any good Slytherin, I expect him to fight back. I expect most of his friends will join him, but there are others in this house he isn't close to."

"I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen you speak with Thomas and Michael," David Palce said.

"Ronnie exchanges gossip with me, but I never speak to Chabré or duMonde," Pansy said.

"Exactly," Miles said. "Same for Courtney and Bole's sister. Some people have absolutely no motivation to keep from setting a trap for Harry other than the ties of the house. Me, I've played Quidditch with Harry for the last four years-"

"There wasn't Quidditch last year," Samantha interjected.

"Don't remind me! Harry's my teammate, and that's enough for me. We defended him from the Heir of Slytherin garbage, and we defended him during the Triwizard Tournament. He earned my trust, and now's no reason to break it. As I am senior to anyone else in the house except my lovely, beautiful, exquisite, lady Heather who is exactly as magnificent as myself, I am setting policy. We will highly encourage taking up wands against the Dark Lord. Absent that, support for the war effort is mandatory. Now next year when I am gone, Palce could lose his mind and convince Sam that she needs to seduce Harry and capture him instead. I can't control that, but while I am here, the Dark Lord is the enemy. Is that clear?"

Sam Warrington blushed horribly, glancing over at Harry and turning even redder when she met his eyes.

Bletchley let them go at that point. He and Heather stayed behind in the compartment, and when Harry glanced back to see if they were following, the door had disappeared again.

Palce and Warrington were sizing Harry up.

"So you're going to fight him?" Palce said.

"That's right. I think I've got a fair shot of it."

"You seem pretty confident."

"You could say that. He must have been pretty threatened to have gone after me as a baby. Why didn't he abduct me, raise me as his own? Because he knows I'm the one who can destroy him."

"Think about it," Pansy urged. "Harry's a threat to You-Know-Who. At least he thinks so. Seeing as how he's a great towering Dark Lord, I think we can acccept his opinion on the matter."

"That's not logic I'm all-together comfortable accepting, if you don't mind my saying so," Sam said, "because it involves trusting a Dark Lord, and that's just dumb."

"I'll go along with this for now," Palce said. "I'm fairly sure a few of my more distant cousins will be interested in signing up with the Death Eaters, but my parents don't quite agree with their tactics. Great believers in democracy, my folks. 'If You-Know-Who really does believe his policies are the best for the Empire, then let him campaign on them,' my dad said."

"He does realize the Empire hasn't existed in decades."

"Try and tell him that, and don't even get him started on how the Wizarding Empire could have saved it all if only they'd had the guts to repeal the Statute of Secrecy."

"What about you, Palce? What do you believe?"

"I believe in making my own decisions, and I don't want to see my family get hurt. So yeah, I guess that means I'll fight."

"There is no better reason to fight than to protect the people we love," Harry said softly. "If that is your cause, then it is just. That's exactly what this is about: family. To make the world safe for our families, we must oppose his tyranny."

"We'll tell the others," Sam promised. "See you at the feast."

"Well done," Pansy said to Harry. "Two more at least, and probably more."

"It's not these lot here at school I'm worried about," Harry said. "It's all the brothers, sisters, and cousins who aren't at Hogwarts."

"Don't be so cheerful. So what's this about Theo?"

"Yeah, keep it quiet. We found out this summer. Theo was supposed to set a trap for me. He refused, and his dad used Cruciatus on him."

"That's disgusting!" she gasped. "Mister Nott tortured his own blood?"

"Yeah. Well, Theo didn't stand for it and poisoned him."

She shook her head sadly. "I don't doubt you, but it's so incredible. Mister Nott was always so nice to me. He used to tutor us. He taught us about magical theory, about history, our sums, and so much more. He was always very patient with me. He was so smart."

"Well he was dumb enough to pick Voldemort's side."

Pansy considered that for a moment, her eyes haunted. "I wonder if many other Slytherins will have to make that same choice?"

Harry wondered the same, and the answers were often troubling.

"This is why you and Draco wanted me to lay off him, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Poor fellow's got enough to cope with as it is, wouldn't you say?"

"It's a good reason. You know, I think Theo's not all that bad. When he's keeping a civil tongue in his head, he can be quite tolerable."

Draco and Daphne were waiting in the compartment. They were seated on opposite sides. Daphne had a book open, but she didn't appear to be reading it.

"You just missed your favourite person," Daphne said.

"The Weasel?"

"The same."

"What did he want?"

"Oh, the usual rot," Draco said with some heat. "Glad that Quidditch will be back on this year. He can't wait to see the Champion fly again."

"Again with the Champion bit."

"He's technically correct. You are the Champion. You're the Champion of Champions."

"That just makes it worse. I know he doesn't mean it. He's using it like an insult."

"Well, we'll figure out a way to fix him good this year. I'll start working on a plan."

"Oh goodie!" Daphne said. "A plan! I like plans."

"Ginny was saying that she's had enough of him too. I think she'd like to help."

"She's a devious one," Pansy said. "She _did_ know exactly what she was doing with that dress at the Yule Ball."

"Half a dress," Daphne quipped.

"Oh, yes," Pansy agreed, "but what a half it was, and she pulled it off. I was as surprised as anyone else."

"Her brothers certainly did turn funny colours that night," Harry remembered. "I don't think her taunting them helped."

"Most assuredly not."

"So how do we get them?" said Daphne. "Are you going to ask Ginny out, Harry? That would really make his head explode."

Ask out Ginny? She was very nice, and certainly spunky enough for his tastes. Harry recalled her image. She had red hair that was rather long and curly. Her eyes were brown and often laughing. Yeah, she was pretty. He thought about the dress she'd worn to the Yule Ball and gulped. Was it warm in here?

"It probably would," he said. Ron Weasley hated Harry, and if her mere association with Slytherins was enough to drive him insane, the possibilities if she started dating one of them were endless. He'd nearly flipped his top when she'd gone to the Yule Ball with Crabbe.

"You sound very enthusiastic," Daphne said slyly.

"I don't know if I want to start dating again."

"It's been two months, Harry," Pansy said.

"Yeah, but we weren't at school."

"You're going to be quite the catch this year. Triwizard winner; prefect; Captain-in-Training. They'll be throwing themselves at you. Look at how Abbott was acting just now."

"Hannah Abbott was flirting with Harry?" Daphne said. "Good on her for getting prefect."

Pansy filled her in about the exchange of glances as the meeting broke up. Daphne giggled at Harry's expense throughout the tale. He tried to ignore them, but with every giggle or mirthful snort, Harry's blush grew brighter and deeper.

"Daphne!" he finally protested, when he could take it no more.

"But it's so cute," she said defensively.

"I think it could work," Pansy speculated, "but before we put together a plan in that regard, would it interfere with your own designs?"

"Well, Charles hasn't written me very much this summer, so I've decided to tell him to forget any ideas of going out this year. I suppose Harry would make a worthy substitute."

Now Harry's ears felt like they were on fire.

"I see. Talk to him later about that. I don't think he's capable of speech just now."

Mercifully, the lady with the candy trolley came by just then. Harry bought a dozen Chocolate Frogs, three boxes of Every Flavour Beans, two Sugar Quills, and a bottle of pumpkin juice.

Harry pulled out a deck of exploding cards to distract Daphne, as she generally stopped laughing when she started swearing.

"So is there anything going on that hasn't been reported in the Prophet?" Pansy asked. "I've been starved for real news."

"Nah, not a thing," Draco said. "Father told me to worry about classes. 'Classes lead to OWLs, OWLs lead to NEWTs, and NEWTs lead to success in life.' It's been bloody awful with only homework and studying to do."

"Same here," Harry said. "I missed you guys all summer. Has anyone seen Tracy?"

"Not yet."

Conversation stayed pretty neutral as they played. Mindful of their promise to Professor Moody, neither Harry nor Draco discussed any Order business. It wasn't easy to fake irritation and frustration; they'd had plenty of it.

"Any idea who's going to be teaching Defence?" Harry asked. It was his favourite subject.

"Maybe Professor Moody will come back," said Daphne.

"No, they're sure to need him with the Aurors," Draco replied.

"Maybe Dumbledore will teach us himself," Harry wondered. "Who better than the only one Voldemort ever feared?"

That made a lot of sense. Dumbledore's mighty reputation was formidable.

One game ended. Another began. Goyle came by with Mandy Brocklehurst to say hello. As they were leaving, Millie arrived.

"Where've you been?" Pansy asked.

"Had to sort out a situation with Arcen. Seems he and Lucas got caught trying to spy on Laine and the girls."

Pansy sighed. "Boys," she said, in a tone that said everything.

"Are they going to be okay?" Daphne asked.

"Their bones will heal eventually."

"I meant the girls."

"Oh, they were quite upset. I actually had to save Arcen from them. Family and all. Laine says hi, Harry."

"Oh. Hello."

"So deal me in."

They kept playing cards as pastures and fields passed into forests and trees. The sun moved steadily towards the west.

There was a knock on the door of the compartment. Tracy didn't wait for an answer before entering.

"Hey, guys."

"Hi, Tracy."

"Where've you been?" Harry inquired.

It was good to see Tracy hanging around with the group again. Harry smiled at her. She was still really pretty, and she'd worn a pair of dangling earrings that shimmered when she moved her head. She wore green eyeshadow and that combined with her blue eyes was set off by the greens and blues in the earrings. She'd cut her hair since Harry had seen her at his birthday party. It was now only down to her chin. Her older sister Jamie had styled it that way during her own fifth year.

"I was chatted up by a couple of boys from Hufflepuff."

"Oh yeah?" Pansy said, sounding interested. She was always curious about gossip.

"Alex Stebbins and Airen Summerby. Sixth years. They were quite nice. Well, Airen had to go to the prefect meeting, but Alex and I started talking about runes, and before I knew it, two hours had passed. He asked me if I'd like to go to Hogsmeade with him. I said yes, of course."

"Good for you!" Daphne said enthusiastically.

"I was so surprised. I don't think I'd even seen him before today."

Harry whole-heartedly approved of Alex Stebbins. If he could help Tracy get over her crush on him, Harry would give the man a job sharpening quills for ten Galleons a day.

An announcement came over the speaker.

"We will be arriving in Hogsmeade in approximately five minutes. Please gather your belongings and prepare to depart the train. Leave your luggage, as it will be taken to the school separately. Please be aware that all bags and trunks will be searched for Dark objects."

"Come on, Harry. We've got to go make sure the firsties get to the boats."

The train was just slowing down when they got into position with the rest of the prefects to be the first off the train. The train lumbered to a rumbling stop and the great steam engine hissed loudly. The prefects spread out down the length of the platform.

"First years, down the platform and to the left! Everyone else, off to the right and to the carriages!"

It was not Hagrid doing the directing. Professor Grubbly-Plank, the on-call substitute teacher, was urging the new students down to the boats. Harry raised a mental eyebrow at this change, but he had little time to ponder as he had to break up a group of third year Slytherins and Gryffindors who were exchanging words.

When at last the crowd had dispersed, the prefects piled into the last four carriages (separated by house) and rode up to the castle. They rolled to a stop in front of the main gate, which was still open to admit the students. They entered the Great Hall, and the doors closed behind them. They were the last to arrive.

Harry and Pansy sat down next to Daphne and Draco. The hall was extremely noisy, filled as it was with students chatting and yakking, sitting and waiting.

The doors from the Entrance Hall opened. A long line of scared-looking first-years entered, led by Professor McGonagall, who was carrying a stool on which sat an ancient wizard's hat, heavily patched and darned with a wide rip near the frayed brim.

The buzz of talk in the Great Hall faded away. The first-years lined up in front of the staff table facing the rest of the students, and Professor McGonagall placed the stool carefully in front of them, then stood back.

The first-years' faces glowed palely in the candlelight. A small boy right in the middle of the row looked as though he was trembling. The whole school waited with bated breath. Then the rip near the hat's brim opened wide like a mouth and the Sorting Hat burst into song:

In times of old when I was new,  
And Hogwarts barely started,  
The founders of our noble school,  
Thought never to be parted,  
United by a common goal,  
They had the selfsame yearning,  
To make the world's best magic school,  
And pass along their learning.  
"Together we will build and teach!"  
The four good friends decided,  
And never did they dream,  
That they might some day be divided,  
For were there such friends anywhere,  
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?  
Unless it was the second pair  
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?  
So how could it have gone so wrong?  
How could such friendships fail?  
Why, I was there and so can tell,  
The whole sad, sorry tale.  
Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those whose  
Ancestry is purest."  
Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose  
Intelligence is surest."  
Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those  
With brave deeds to their name."  
Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,  
And treat them just the same."  
These differences caused little strife,  
When first they came to light,  
For each of the four founders had  
A house in which they might  
Take only those they wanted,  
So, for instance, Slytherin  
Took only pure-blood wizards  
Of great cunning, just like him,  
And only those of sharpest mind  
Were taught by Ravenclaw  
While the bravest and the boldest  
Went to daring Gryffindor.  
Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,  
And taught them all she knew,  
Thus the houses and their founders  
Retained friendships firm and true.  
So Hogwarts worked in harmony  
For several happy years,  
But then discord crept among us  
Feeding on our faults and fears.  
The houses that, like pillars four,  
Had once held up our school,  
Now turned upon each other and,  
Divided, sought to rule.  
And for a while it seemed the school  
Must meet an early end,  
What with dueling and with fighting  
And the clash of friend on friend  
And at last there came a morning  
When old Slytherin departed  
And though the fighting then died out  
He left us quite downhearted.  
And never since the founders four  
Were whittled down to three  
Have the houses been united  
As they once were meant to be.  
And now the Sorting Hat is here  
And you all know the score:  
I sort you into houses  
Because that is what I'm for,  
But this year I'll go further,  
Listen closely to my song:  
Though condemned I am to split you  
Still I worry that it's wrong,  
Though I must fulfill my duty  
And must quarter every year  
Still I wonder whether Sorting  
May not bring the end I fear.  
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,  
The warning history shows,  
For our Hogwarts is in danger  
From external, deadly foes  
And we must unite inside her  
Or we'll crumble from within  
I have told you, I have warned you…  
Let the Sorting now begin.

The Hat became motionless once more; applause broke out, though it was punctured, for the first time in Harry's memory, with muttering and whispers. All across the Great Hall students were exchanging remarks with their neighbors, and Harry, clapping along with everyone else, knew exactly what they were talking about.

"Branched out a bit this year, hasn't it?" said Draco, his eyebrows raised.

"Too right it has," said Harry.

The Sorting Hat usually confined itself to describing the different qualities looked for by each of the four Hogwarts houses and its own role in Sorting them. Harry could not remember it ever trying to give the school advice before.

"I wonder if it's ever given warnings before?" said Pansy, sounding slightly anxious.

"Oh, yes," said Tracy knowledgeably. "The Hat feels itself honour-bound to give the school due warning whenever it feels –"

Professor McGonagall, who was waiting to read out the list of first-years' names, was giving the whispering students the sort of look that scorches. The hall quickly grew silent. With a last frowning look that swept the four house tables, Professor McGonagall lowered her eyes to her long piece of parchment and called out the first name.

"Euan Abercrombie."

As the first new student sat on the stool and put the Sorting Hat on his head, the whole Hall was hushed. This was always a very exciting moment. Who would claim the first?

"RAVENCLAW!"

Whoops and cheers burst out from the Ravenclaw table. Around the Hall, several students exchanged currency.

"Patricia Aronstein." "SLYTHERIN!"

"Wendy Ashland." "SLYTHERIN!"

Two giggling blonde girls were welcomed to the table by some of the many giggling girls of second year.

"Lucy Berry." "RAVENCLAW!"

"Grace Clark." "RAVENCLAW!"

"Regina Clark." "RAVENCLAW!"

Three students in a row was a string of luck for Ravenclaw. They were getting pretty rowdy. They'd gotten four of the first six new students so far.

"Collette Dashwood." "GRYFFINDOR!"

The first new Gryffindor was greeted with a storm of applause and foot-stomping.

"Fiona Dee." "SLYTHERIN!"

So far, Harry didn't recognize any family names. He clapped loudly for all the new Slytherins anyway.

"Warren Dwight." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Randy Dyer." "HUFFLEPUFF!"

As Hufflepuff claimed their first, their table exploded with noise. Not content with clapping and foot-stomping, someone let off a few shrill whistles.

"Chelsea Finch." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Eric Frobisher." "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Frobisher was a Beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He wondered if this firstie was a sibling or a cousin.

"Jasper Goodwinter." "SLYTHERIN!"

Goodwinter was one of the old Slytherin families. One of the fourth years, Jeremiah, welcomed his relative to the table.

"Gladstone Halaiko." "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Adam Harker." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Jack Isham." "RAVENCLAW!"

"DeeDee Kelvar." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Jack Kivaral." "SLYTHERIN!"

Harry applauded with his housemates. A third year, Benedict, waved frantically to summon the new arrival over.

"My brother," Benedict said to everyone.

"Welcome to Slytherin," Harry called.

"Prem Koothrapali." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Olivia Lang." "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Jiayi Li." "RAVENCLAW!"

"Chelsea Loxton." "RAVENCLAW!"

"Quentin Madley." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Susan MacMillan." "RAVENCLAW!"

"Cecilia Moor." "SLYTHERIN!"

"About time we got another one," Draco grumbled to Harry under the applause.

"Bevan Napier." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Justin Newman." "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Basil Orme." "SLYTHERIN!"

"See, Draco? We're flagging early but finishing strong."

"Harriet Polk." "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Llyod Price." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Caradoc Reed." "RAVENCLAW!"

"Geoffrey Rosati." "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Pamela Ruthven." "SLYTHERIN!"

"I was starting to think we were out," Draco muttered.

"Shut up," Harry replied good-naturedly.

"Ava Shahi." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Adisa Shane." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Clara Steinbeck." "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Thatcher Sunderland." "RAVENCLAW!"

"Florance Tucker." "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Tobias Weiss." "SLYTHERIN!"

"Rose Zeller." "HUFFLEPUFF!"

All in all, there were not as many new students as last year. Harry was just as glad for that. It meant they could start the feast sooner.

"Before we may begin our feast, there is one other small matter to attend to. I'm sure you will all recall the friendships made during our last year together. We have a friend joining us again this year. I'd like you all to please give a warm Hogwarts welcome to Mister Blaise Zabini, who has returned to us from Beauxbatons."

A tall boy with ebony skin walked out from the antechamber where Harry had gone after his name came out of the Goblet of Fire. He stode confidently to the Slytherin table and sat down.

"To our newcomers," said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, "welcome! To our old hands – welcome back! There is a time for speechmaking, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

There was an appreciative laugh and an outbreak of applause as Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of the way of his plate – for food had appeared out of nowhere, so that the five long tables were groaning under joints and pies and dishes of vegetables, bread and sauces and flagons of pumpkin juice.

"What were you saying before the Sorting?" Harry asked Tracy. "About the Hat giving warnings?"

"Oh, yes," said Tracy. "At several times during the school's history, and always during periods of great danger, the Sorting Hat has delivered a warning. According to Hogwarts A History, its advice is the same: stand together, be strong from within."

Goyle asked, "How can it know if the school's in danger if it's a Hat?"

"I have no idea," said Tracy. "Of course, it lives in Dumbledore's office, so I suppose it might pick up a thing or two there. I mean, it's only been around since the time of the Founders. We know it can think and communicate. I wonder what you'd know if you lived a thousand years."

Tracy paused and considered who she was talking to. "Then again, probably not a lot would change."

"Hey!"

"It wants all the houses to be friends?" said Harry, looking over at the Gryffindor table, where Ron Weasley was shovelling food into his mouth as quickly as he could, barely pausing to chew. He bore a remarkable resemblance to Crabbe, in fact. "Fat chance."

The feast was magnificent, as it always was. Harry cleared his plate and took another helping of mashed potatoes. He poured a third glass of pumpkin juice to wash down another slice of roast. His steak and kidney pie was just too good to stop.

When he could not possibly eat another bite, the food vanished to be replaced by the desserts. There was too much to choose from. Harry ate his way steadily through a large plateful of treacle tart, his favorite.

When all the students had finished eating and the noise level in the Hall was starting to creep upwards again, Dumbledore got to his feet once more. Talking ceased immediately as all turned to face the Headmaster. Harry was feeling pleasantly drowsy now. His four-poster bed was waiting somewhere below, wonderfully warm and soft.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," said Dumbledore. "First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students – and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things even allowed in the castle, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door.

"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause. Harry wondered where Hagrid had gone to. The big man loved being a teacher. For him to pass up on the chance to share more "critters" with the students would have required something of sublime importance. Dumbledore had not said for how long Grubbly-Plank would be teaching.

Dumbledore continued, "Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the –"

He broke off, looking inquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge cleared her throat, "Hem, hem," and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech.

Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise. Professor Sprout's eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair, and Professor McGonagall, who was normally very stern anyway, looked as though someone had mouthed back to her in class. No new teacher had ever interrupted Dumbledore before. Many of the students were smirking; this woman obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome."

Her voice was high-pitched, breathy and little-girlish. There was something not quite right with her, though Harry couldn't put his finger on exactly what. Maybe it was just the audacity she had to break tradition. She gave another little throat-clearing cough ("hem, hem") and continued.

"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. "I am ever so thankful to have the chance to contribute back to the institution that holds such happy memories for me.

Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again ("hem, hem"), but when she continued, some of the breathiness had vanished from her voice. She sounded much more businesslike and now her words had a dull learned-by-heart sound to them. She intended to speechify.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back to her. Harry distinctly saw Professor McGonagall exchange a significant glance with Professor Sprout as Umbridge gave another little "hem, hem" and went on with her speech.

"That is what we will achieve together this year. I have reviewed the recent history of my particular subject and have found it," she paused, "unimpressive. Curriculum has been haphazard and spotty, and it simply will - not - do. There must be order, and I will bring it. High standards will be set, but I believe each and every one of you can meet them if given the chance.

"Never has the need for strong wizards and witches been greater. The Ministry recently passed Educational Decree number twenty-two, taking un to itself the power to appoint professors in the event that no suitable candidate can be found by the headmaster or the governors. It is the responsibility of the government to ensure the safety of its citizenry, but we cannot be everywhere at once. Each and every one of you may have to defend yourself or your families from Death Eaters. I mean to see that you can fight back. The return of the Dark times will test us all, far more intensely than the OWLs and the NEWTs that some of you will take in the spring. I look forward to seeing you all in class."

She sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though Harry noticed that several of them brought their hands together only once or twice before stopping. Harry clapped a few times. She definitely had the right idea, but her presentation could have put a certain three-headed dog to sleep. A few other students joined in the applause, but most had been taken unawares by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it, and before they could start applauding properly, Dumbledore had stood up again.

"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," he said, bowing to her. "If I may spin a thread off from you, with the return to the Dark times, there will be increased security here at Hogwarts. For reasons of safety, Hogsmeade weekends will be announced last minute and may be cancelled entirely."

There was a loud moaning from every table.

"I know this will make romantic relationships difficult to plan," the old wizard said with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes, "but a bit of spontaneity can be nice as well.

"Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held..."

"Well, that was inspiring," Draco said dryly. "What a boring old bag, and what awful fashion sense."

"Which designer would you recommend, oh discriminating one?" Daphne asked.

"Anybody but what she's wearing."

Professor Umbridge did have the most horrible taste in colour. She wore an obnoxious amount of pink. Her fluffy cardigan, her stupid hat, and her long skirt were all like daggers right in the eyes.

"Sounds promising, I guess," Millie speculated.

Pansy agreed. "She recognizes Lockhart at least was useless. Quirrell too, for that matter. Lupin and Moody weren't too bad."

"I hope she teaches better than she speeches," Daphne quipped.

Harry groaned. "Daphne!" he protested.

"What?" She fluttered her eyelashes innocently.

"Bad!"

"Aw!"

"What was that bit about her being appointed by the Ministry?" Draco asked. "Couldn't Dumbledore find anybody to volunteer? Nobody who doesn't want to get caught up in the fighting again, so he'll do his part by passing on his knowledge to the next generation, and then wakes up one night to be slain by a gang of assassins?"

"You've been reading too many Martin's Mage Tales lately," Millie said.

"I was trapped in the house all summer. I read a lot of my old books. It was actually quite enjoyable once I got past the irritation."

"Well, there is a curse on the position, isn't there?" Pansy said. "Nobody lasts more than a year. You can even wind up dead! The Ministry had to do something."

"It means the Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts," Tracy said.

"It means Umbridge won't last out the year if the job really is jinxed." Draco snapped his fingers. "Ooh, I've just had an idea. Let's start a betting pool for when she finally gets done in."

"That's creepy! That is so wickedly creepy!" Daphne protested. "Malfoy, you are _not_ a nice person."

There was a great clattering and banging all around them; Dumbledore had obviously just dismissed the school, because everyone was standing up ready to leave the Hall. Pansy jumped up.

"Come on, Harry, we're supposed to show the first-years where to go!"

"There were four boys and five girls," Harry said. "I wrote their names down. Slytherin first years!"

The other prefects joined them in guiding their new housemates to their new second home in the dungeons. The pack of nine gathered around the prefects, looking up with wide, expectant, nervous faces. Had Harry ever been that young? He grinned. Yes, he had, and he still felt similarly starry-eyed quite often in the magical world.

Out from the Great Hall to the entrance hall to the steps leading down to the dungeons they went. They took the long, circuitous route, the one that didn't require any secret passages.

When they came to a T intersection, Pansy gestured to the left. "That is the way to the Potions lab." She turned to the right and kept walking. "This corridor has a lot of branches," she continued, walking past them all, "but don't take any turns or you'll never find the wall. At several places you'll see paintings of famous Slytherins or statues and so on. The other houses think the entrance to our common room must be connected to one of them, but that's silly. They move around in order to keep everyone else confused. The password is 'unity'."

The bricks of the wall folded back to reveal the entry to the Slytherin common room. The first years slowly made their way inside, marvelling at the great fireplace, the greenish lamps, and the decadent chairs.

"First years, welcome to Slytherin," Bletchley said. "I'm Miles Bletchley, and I'm a seventh year, as well as being Quidditch Captain. You've been Sorted to the best house at Hogwarts. Isn't that right, Heather?"

"Yes, Miles, it is. Hi, guys. I'm Heather Chandler, and we are here to help you out in any way possible, but first and foremost, please understand that we seventh years and also the fifth years have a very important test at the end of the school year. The results can help determine if we get good jobs once we finish our time at Hogwarts. So the sixth years are really the ones you want to try talking to first. If you can't find them, _then _you come to us. What do you say? Deal?"

The firsties nodded.

"Those wonderful sixth years will now introduce themselves. Take it away, Dave!"

"Hello, first years. I'm David Palce. I had a joke, but it wasn't very funny. I was going to tell you anyway, but now it's been built up too much and will sound even more dumb and more fake than before. I like collecting Chocolate Frog Cards, so if you want to trade, let me know, and I'm looking forward to not having a big test at the end of the year."

"I'm Samantha Warrington. I like Charms and Transfiguration. I'm part of the Charms Club, if anyone is interested in joining."

"The fifth years."

"I'm Pansy Parkinson. If any prefect tells you to do something, you do it. The password to our common room is 'unity', and we mean it. We prefects are looking out for the safety and well-being of every single one of you. You will obey out of self-interest. In the common room, you'll all have to wear elf caps. If one of the older students tells you to do something, you do it. It's a grand old tradition, and in several years, you'll be able to boss around the firsties. We may tease you, but it's all in good fun. You truly are our fellows, and we care for you."

"I'm Harry Potter."

The gasps were mildly irritating but expected.

"You're not allowed to drag me into your arguments with the Gryffindors. You're not allowed to come back with 'I'll have Harry Potter hex you', or anything like that. I won't do it, and I'll probably give you detention."

"Harry was the winner of the Triwizard Tournament last year," David said. "I wouldn't cross him, but otherwise he's perfectly all right."

"No classes tomorrow, as it's Saturday," Samantha said. "Even so, look sharp in the common room by half-seven. We'll go up to breakfast and give you the tour. Until then, good night."

"Bedrooms are down those halls," David added. "Boys turn right, girls turn left. You'll see a plate marked 'First Years'."

The first years shuffled off to bed, leaving the prefects lounging in front of the fireplace.

"They're so ickle!" Pansy gushed.

Heather giggled. "We said the same thing when we became prefects."


	9. The First Days Back

**Chapter Nine - The First Days Back**

With the firsties tucked away in bed, the older students gradually filtered back out to the common room. It was Friday night, the beginning of the weekend. There were no classes until Monday. There was absolutely no reason to go to bed.

It seemed strange to be able to stay up late on the first night back, but the Slytherins were not ones to waste an opportunity. Bletchley brought out a wizard's wireless, and music began to play throughout the room. They kept the volume relatively low since everybody wanted to talk and catch up.

Harry found himself in the corner on a couch with Pansy and Daphne. Draco sat in a chair nearby. Goyle had leaned a beanbag chair up against the couch and settled himself down.

"Seems a shame not to let the ickle firsties participate," Draco observed, "but they must be knackered. I remember I was first night."

"No kidding," Harry agreed. "I think I was out before my head even hit the pillow. I'm quite done in as it is."

To illustrate the point, Daphne yawned.

"Where's Crabbe?" Harry said.

"He's still in the dorm," Goyle replied.

"Turning in early?"

"He's kind of afraid to see you. You know, given what his dad tried to do."

"Not an unwise thing," Draco noted. "I still can't believe he was stupid enough to try the Killing Curse right there in public."

"Maybe he was under Imperius," Goyle suggested.

"Sirius says they're looking into that. It would be easier to explain."

"Or the Dark Lord just tried to get an easy victory," Pansy said. "Maybe it was just a normal order."

"Whose order?" Harry asked.

"The Dark Lord."

After a summer of hearing Sirius and Remus use Voldemort's given name, hearing Pansy use his presumed title was bothersome to Harry. Mr. Malfoy had used it, but he'd been ingrained to. No, it was time to put a stop to this.

"No, Pansy, that's not his name. His name is Voldemort."

Pansy flinched. "Don't make me say it. Please."

"It's just a name. You shouldn't be afraid of a name. His name is Voldemort."

She gave a small whimper. "V- V- V-" she stuttered.

"Voldemort."

"Vvvvv-"

"Voldemort."

"Why can't I just say Dark Lord? You know who I mean. It's not like there's another one running around somewhere."

"Voldemort." Harry was inexorable. He stared hard at Pansy, willing his own strength to pass into her.

"Volde..." she whispered.

"What was that?"

"Voldemort," she breathed.

"Again."

"Voldemort." It was a little bit louder now, half a whisper.

"Yes, Pansy," Harry cheered. "Keep it up."

"Voldemort." One could almost hear her.

"You're doing fantastic, love."

"Voldemort." Triumph!

Harry squeezed her hands. The way the name was verbotin, one might expect Death Eaters to pop up and start flinging hexes. Her face was still slightly wary, as though she couldn't quite believe she was getting away with saying the forbidden name.

"Well done." He turned to Daphne. "Let's hear you."

"Why are you picking on us girls? Does Draco say it yet?"

"We'll get to him. Come on, then."

"Dark Tosser?" She grinned hopefully at him, trying to be cute. Her cuteness generally got her rather far, but Harry would not be put off.

"Daphne." His tone was mildly reproving, letting her know that the time for joking was over.

"Volde-thingy."

"..."

"Oh, fine. You know, I don't think you appreciate just how hard this is. We've been afraid of his name since we were old enough to know what fear is." She took a deep breath. "Voldemort," she whispered.

"See? Not so hard."

"Draco's turn."

Draco loved to be in the spotlight, but not when having to do something difficult like this. His normal cocky expression vanished as his lips shaped the word, but nothing came out except a dry wheeze.

"What was that, mate?"

"Vol-"

"One more time."

"I hate this. Vol. De. Mort. There, I said it."

"That hardly counts," Pansy objected.

"It's the best you're going to get for now."

"You, Draco, are far from the best I can get."

Harry winced. Pansy's harsh words were spoken pleasantly, almost matter-of-factly.

Draco's tone turned very frosty. "The Dark Lord's name is Voldemort," he said, his eyes locked with hers.

Pansy shivered. Draco didn't.

"Are you satisfied, you relentless, foul-mouthed-"

"I do not have a foul mouth! I speak with the voice of angels."

"Only the ones that have been cast down into the fiery pit."

"Whose singing is thus even more lovely to tempt mortal man. Care to try again, you simplistic, uncouth, moron of an ape who happened to pick up a fallen wand one day?"

"How long have you been saving that one, Pansy?" Daphne interjected.

"Ever since he decided it would be a good idea to dunk us all under water."

"That was particularly brainless of him."

"I still don't think it's fair that you just decided it was my idea."

"It absolutely was," Pansy said. "Tracy had the right of it."

"Where is she anyway?"

"She wanted to read for a bit."

"Read? Well, that's Tracy."

At that moment, Blaise Zabini came over to the group. "Good evening, all. It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Welcome back, Zabini," Harry said. "It's been awhile."

"It has, at that. Call me Blaise. Of course I remember you, Harry."

"You remember Draco Malfoy."

"Dray."

"No, that's not it."

"Pansy Parkinson."

"Cici."

"What did you just call me?"

"Daphne."

"Daffy."

"He doesn't know when to stop, does he?"

"Goyle."

"The Boil."

"Zabini, I'm going to thump you. Can I thump him, Draco?"

"Oh, please do. Then I'm going to hex him."

"Relax, Dray. Everything is cool."

"Will you _stop_ calling me by that ridiculous nickname?"

Pansy still looked outraged, but on seeing how perturbed Draco was, her face slowly morphed into a calculating smirk. "Dray, darling, please calm yourself. You're disturbing my auras."

Daphne got in on it quickly. "Oh my stars, it's just too shocking. Such violence is truly barbaric."

"This Frenchman is being unaccountably rude to all of us, and you're on his side?"

"I rather like his little pet names."

"If that's the way you want to play it, _Cici_," he sneered.

A brief flash of worry crossed her face, but it vanished beneath the mask of resolve.

Draco turned back to Zabini. "You don't want to start this with me. I'll hex you back to France if you persist with this."

"Okay, fine. I was only trying to put everyone at ease. Sorry."

"You'd better be."

Zabini moved away from them and went to speak with some of the sixth years.

"So what do you think about Zabini coming back?" Draco said to Harry. "Is there a new bed in the dorm? Because I'm not sharing."

"I'm sure they've planned for him."

"Isn't it rather convenient? Someone we have no idea about can suddenly sleep in the same room as you? Did they check this fellow out?"

Harry worried about the answer to that question. Dumbledore was not as sharp as he once was, according to Sirius. He decided not to trust that the old wizard had done his due diligence. He needed to call Sirius on the magic mirror before he slept tonight.

While he was concerned about this Zabini boy, plenty of his fellow Slytherins made it a point to make eye contact with him and express solidarity. The sixth and seventh year girls were sitting at nearby table. Each one looked over and gave Harry a slight nod. Heather Chandler and Samantha Warrington, the prefects, must have talked to them.

Laine and Ginny were chatting at a table with Sarrah Nolan and Shawna Osman. They occasionally looked in his direction, regarding him speculatively. Michelle Holt, still ostracized from their clique, sat at another table with Lucas. Laine shot her twin brother vicious glares, but he either didn't see them or didn't care. Harry thought it was nice that someone was reaching out to the poor girl.

Though he would be getting to know the other prefects, Harry generally didn't mingle with the upper year students aside from the lads on the team. They were good lads, if a bit rowdy. Once Harry had proven his worth to the team, he'd become solid with them all. His Quidditch mates had defended him during the Triwizard Tournament, during the Chamber of Secrets nonsense. He was counting on them standing up with him.

It looked as though Harry would get the chance to talk to them sooner rather than later. Two of the Chasers, Montague and Pucey, came up as the evening wore on.

Pucey spoke first. "Hey, Harry, did you stay in shape this summer? Get lots of practice in?"

Montague didn't let Harry answer. "Because Miles is going to run us ragged. He spent all holiday designing new plays. As if the manual didn't have more than enough already."

"I hope he doesn't think he's better than me at being a Seeker."

"Nothing like that, Harry," Pucey replied, "but there are a lot of things that can be done with the Seeker that are absolutely legal, just tricky to pull off. We're going to work more on that stuff this year."

"Should be fun," Montague said.

"If by 'fun', you mean 'not at all'," Harry said wryly.

"There's that Seeker humour."

"We'll see you around, Harry. We've got to go play a prank on Miles."

Harry chuckled. "Have fun with that, guys."

They hurried away, and Harry made a mental note to have a more private word with them.

"They're just asking for extra torture at practice, aren't they?" Draco said.

"Yup. If they get caught."

"Better than losing points or getting detention," Pansy said, "which is exactly what would happen if they pranked Gryffindor. That would not help us hold on to the Quidditch Cup."

"I wonder where Charles is," Daphne said. Her former boyfriend had sort of drifted away. Now it looked like he was avoiding her deliberately; he was seldom apart from his mates.

"That bum," Pansy said derisively. "Not to worry, Daphne. We'll find you a nice boy. I think Harry's available."

Harry coughed and began to feel hot under the collar. "Pansy!"

"What? You two have been aware of each other for years and done nothing about it. Someone has to prompt you."

"I was still thinking about it."

Daphne giggled. "Ooh, you were thinking about me, were you?"

Harry wanted to bury his face in his hands to hide his humiliation. "I'm thinking about a lot of things. I don't even know if I want to ask anyone out right now. I've got a lot to do this year. Between prefect meetings, Quidditch practices, and managing the classwork, I'll be lucky if I have time to sleep."

"Good thing I brought Dad's coffee pot," Daphne said. "If you ask me out, you can share it with me."

"Silence, you foul temptress."

"Is that your idea of sweet talk?"

Harry couldn't take it anymore. "I'm going to bed. Good night."

"Pleasant dreams!" Daphne said brightly.

She always had to get in the last word. He decided to let her.

"I think I'll turn in as well," Draco said, getting to his feet. "It has been a long day."

Goyle also elected to retire, and the three boys ambled down the corridor to the dormitory. Theo and Crabbe were already asleep with curtains drawn.

Harry undressed, dropping his clothes to the floor. He struggled into his pajama bottoms, pulled back the covers of his bed, and laid down. He bid the room a final good night and drew the curtains.

There was no sound. Harry had put a great many spells on his bed, including the Silencing Charm. With the potential for ambush at Hogwarts, it was not prudent to sleep without magical protections. If Sirius had gotten his way, Padfoot would have slept on a rug at the foot of the bed. In between Animagus and Apparition, Sirius had taught him about Locking Hexes. That teaching was now put to good use as Harry set his security for the night. He wanted to make the contained spell a Stunning Charm, but he hadn't been able to make the magical fields align properly, so he was left with the Full-Body Bind.

Harry put a Sticking Charm on the headboard. He took off his glasses and pressed them up against the wood and let go. The glasses stayed in place. He did the same with his wand. Perfect. Now he didn't have to leave his wand on his bedside table or under his pillow.

Constant vigilance. Harry hated thinking like this. He wanted things back the way they used to be when he didn't have to worry about his friends hexing him in the night, or intruders entering his room to abduct him and carry him off to Voldemort.

Pushing away the negative thoughts, Harry lay down to sleep. He tried to draw on the calm sense he'd found during his Animagus meditations, hoping it would help him quiet his troublesome thoughts.

And he slept.

* * *

After breakfast the next morning, Harry made his way to Professor Snape's office. He knocked firmly on the oak door, using the secret knock to announce himself as a Slytherin alone.

"Enter!"

The door opened. Professor Snape was seated at his desk. He had his head bent and was writing with a black raven's feather. His quill strokes were quick and jerky. His greasy black hair hung forward into his face, though his nose still jutted prominently.

"Hello, sir."

"Good morning, Mister Potter. What may I do for you?"

"I've got something for you, sir. I know how much you like having the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup in your office. Well, I thought I'd give you another trophy for the trifecta."

Harry pulled the Triwizard Cup out and set it on the desk.

"I think it would look quite fine, Mister Potter." Snape had a very delighted smile on his face. "You did a most excellent job during the tasks. For an unwilling contestant, you performed admirably. Up Slytherin."

"Up Slytherin! How was your holiday, sir?"

"Quite busy. I brewed several complicated potions, sat in on several staff meetings, and did some travelling. Yourself?"

"Not nearly as exciting as all that," Harry said regretfully. "I did a lot of studying. It never hurts to be prepared."

"The OWL year is frequently fraught with fear, but with sufficient diligence can be overcome and still allow one to get a full night's refreshment."

"Any hints on your first lecture?" Harry asked hopefully.

Professor Snape spared another small smile. "Mister Potter, that wouldn't be fair to the other students."

"They have legs. Let them walk down here and ask. Term has started. What true teacher would deny us knowledge?"

"Five points to Slytherin, Mister Potter, for a most plausible explanation. The first lecture is a double lesson, and you will be brewing even though it is the first day. There is little enough time to cover all the material before the examination."

"What potion will we be making, sir?"

"The Draught of Peace. It requires precise technique and adherence to the instructions. It is also quite commonly required during the practical portion of the OWL."

"Thank you, sir." Draught of Peace. Harry would read up on it tonight.

"How do you find it being back at school again? There is quite a fair amount of attention on you this year."

"Being a prefect, sir?"

"Amongst other things."

"Well, I'm happy to be a prefect, of course. I wanted to be like my mum. She was Head Girl too."

It may have just been the fire, but Harry thought he saw a flash in Snape's eyes.

"As for other things, it's good to have friends. It helps."

"Have you spoken to Mister Crabbe yet? Surely you're not going to let his father's actions pass without comment."

Harry wasn't surprised Professor Snape already knew about the incident in the Hogs Head.

"No, I just don't know what to say. I don't know if it was a plan by Voldemort, an independent action on Crabbe's part, or something else I haven't thought of."

"Why not let him speak for himself, rather than judge him on his father's behaviour? He has been your friend for four years now. He merits that much consideration at least."

"Yes, sir. I know. I'll talk to him this afternoon."

"Good. The more ties of friendship and influence you have, the better things will be."

"Yes, sir."

Figuring it would be wise to heed Professor Snape's advice immediately, Harry went directly back to the Slytherin common room. He found Crabbe with Goyle at a far table near the bookshelves.

Goyle noticed Harry's approach, and Crabbe caught his sudden shift in focus. He got to his feet, an uncertain expression on his face.

"Hi, Crabbe."

"H-hi, Harry."

"Have you got a few minutes? I'd like to ask you a question about the Astronomy homework."

"Astronomy?" Crabbe's eyes lit up. It was his best subject. "Sure, Harry."

"Let's go to the room. It might be a bit too noisy out here for academic discussion."

"Right. Yeah."

"Lead on."

Harry followed Crabbe down the corridor to the end where the plaque on the door now read "Fifth Years". They went inside, and Harry closed the door behind them.

"Was it the star charts? Or maybe the movements in the Great Dance?"

Harry shook his head. "No, Crabbe. I did just fine with the Astronomy assignment. I wanted to talk about Voldemort."

Crabbe's composure deserted him, and he staggered. He might have fallen had he not grabbed a bed post.

"He's trying to kill me, Crabbe, and your dad was a part of it."

"Please, Harry. My dad doesn't want to harm you. He's afraid to. When the Dark Lord ordered that no one was to touch you except him, my dad took him literally. He doesn't want to find out what would happen to the one who trespassed on the Dark Lord's claim."

"So what was it then, in your opinion?"

"It was the Imperius Curse. Dad's rubbish at resisting it, just like I am."

"That doesn't make any sense, Crabbe. Why would Voldemort use your dad to kill me when he wants to do it himself?"

"I don't know, but I know he wouldn't have done it on his own." Crabbe repeated his claim, his voice certain.

Harry sighed. "Look, mate, I don't know why your dad did what he did, but he tried to use the Killing Curse on me. Whatever his reason, the same could be true for you. If they could Imperius him, they can Imperius you. If they can blackmail him, they can blackmail you. If they can threaten his family, they can threaten your family."

"Nobody's influencing me."

"I need proof, Crabbe."

"You mean an oath."

"Maybe. This is my life, man. I'm not taking chances with it."

Crabbe drew his wand and held it up in front of him. Startled, Harry drew his own and pointed it at Crabbe; however, the big boy spoke no spell.

"I am not being controlled by anyone other than myself. I am not under the influence of potions, enchantments, or compulsions. I will not take action that I believe will bring harm to my friend Harry Potter."

A burst of white light from the tip of the wand sealed the oath. He'd been telling the truth.

"Thank you, Crabbe. I hope you plan to fight on my side."

"Not many choices left, really. I wasn't keen on being a Death Eater. Either way, I don't expect to survive this thing."

Harry could have wished for a bit more enthusiasm.

"I mean, if I join the Death Eaters, I'll likely get killed by a Auror or the Dark Lord in a rage. If I fight against the Dark Lord, I could get killed by a Death Eater. Seems pretty even odds of death."

"Chin up, mate. You might get stomped by a dragon. Wouldn't that be fun?"

Crabbe grinned briefly. "Yeah, I guess. If I gotta go, I might as well go with style."

"So are we okay, fathead?"

Crabbe rolled his eyes. "Yeah, we're okay, Harry. I'm with you, but my head isn't fat."

"Good. Glad to have you. We can head back out now."

Harry detoured to answer the call of nature. As he left the loo and headed down the corridor to the common room, Harry encountered Theo. He walked with his head down, eyes on the ground. His shoulders were slumped, and his bag was clutched limply in one hand.

"Hi, Theo," Harry said. "We missed you at breakfast."

Theo looked up at the sound of Harry's voice, but he gave no further recognition. He kept walking and went into the dorm, shutting the door behind him.

Harry ached for Theo. If only there was something he could _do_, but there was nothing else that could help aside from what he'd just done. He could only reach out to Theo, let him know his friends were near. The rest was up to him.

In the common room, the fifth years were gathered at a table playing cards. Draco was currently facing down Millie, as everyone else's cards had exploded.

"Come on, Mils," Pansy urged. "Get him!"

"Gin!" Millie crowed.

Draco's cards exploded in his hand.

"I win!"

"That's it, I'm out," Draco declared. "That's three hands straight."

"Aww, come on, Draco," coaxed Millie. "Just one more. One more. Double or nothing."

"Absolutely not. I've lost enough already."

"Are you lot gambling?" Harry asked. "That's against the school rules. I can't be knowing about that sort of thing. I'm a prefect, you know."

"Oh, sit down, prefect," Tracy said. "You're just mad because you didn't have a chance to get in on the game."

"How'd you guess?" Harry replied with a grin.

"How'd the talk with Crabbe go?" she inquired.

"Talk?"

"Oh, I know he fell for that line about the Astronomy assignment, but you spent time with Professor Lupin this summer, and he knows a lot about Astronomy. Hence, I deduced that you wanted to talk to him about something. His dad, right?"

"Yeah. It went okay."

"Is he going to be a problem?"

"No, he seems really confused by everything. I don't think he was a part of it. He says he's with me, and I'll believe that until I see otherwise. Now we just need to figure out his dad's actions."

"Where are they keeping him since there's no prison anymore?"

"They've opened some new cells under the Ministry. Mister Malfoy was telling me about them. They never had much luck with traditional cells because the inmates were always trying to escape and could be very creative about getting out. They'd find ways to take advantage of outbursts of accidental magic. Well, that's why the old prison worked so well. With the dementors roaming the halls, everyone wants to stay nice and safe in their cell."

"So how've they managed to get prisoners to want to stay in these new cells?"

"Instead of a back wall, there's nothing but empty air."

"What? How do they keep them from getting out?"

"They've installed a bottomless pit. Guests are free to leave their cells at any time."

"I'd watch that first step. Brilliant idea."

"They're all so worried about falling, they can't concentrate on anything else. Any accidental magic they may do is directed towards keeping them put."

"You know what would make that idea even better?" Draco said. "Put the floor on an angle so that if they roll in their sleep-"

"Eew!" Daphne burst out. "Creepy! Absolutely creepy, Draco!"

"It's not a bad idea," Harry said. "I'll have Sirius write to Director Bones and suggest it. They seem to think that enough time overlooking an abyss will crack him, and he'll talk." Since Sirius had been innocent, Harry knew it was possible that some of the other inmates of the old prison could be too, but the new prison sounded a lot more humane than sticking people in with dementors.

Crabbe shuddered. "I suppose now's the time to mention my dad's fear of heights and of falling."

Draco laughed sharply. "That's a pity. Hopefully he'll talk that much sooner."

"What if he was just under Imperius?"

"If he was, he'd have been ordered to kill himself in custody so as to not betray any knowledge. That hasn't happened, so there's something else at play. A little time contemplating falling but never landing will break him."

"Can we talk about something else, please?" Pansy requested. She seemed slightly green, though it may have been the light from the lanterns.

"Isn't it time for lunch?" Draco said brightly.

And so it was.

Up in the Great Hall, Draco had a sterling idea. Between bites of a chicken sandwich, he said, "Hey, Harry. Why don't we get out on the pitch after we eat and pass the Quaffle around a bit?"

"That is an excellent idea."

"Good," Millie said. "It's going to be tough to go against the Chasers without Theo."

Laine was sitting one seat away from Harry and turned her head. "Nobody can beat Montague, Pucey, and Warrington. Why bother trying?"

"Because how are you going to get better unless you go up against people better than you? You don't learn anything new when you play less experienced flyers. We need to test ourselves against the best."

Millie pounded her fist into her opposite palm.

"I bet you're excited to have Quidditch back on, Harry. I know last year was tough on you."

"Honestly, I was so busy training and worrying, I didn't have much time to miss Quidditch. It'll be nice to get back in the sky, yeah. I hope they've blasted that damned maze to bits."

"I was thinking of going out for the team," Laine said unexpectedly. "What do you think? Would I be a good player?"

Harry felt knocked for a loop. Laine had never expressed any interest in playing Quidditch before. She'd been a fan of his participation, and she'd cheered the house team as loudly as any other Slytherin, yet he hadn't even known she cared to fly.

"Anyone who wants to should try out. More competition means we get the best players. What position?"

"Well there will be openings for Chaser, but I think it would be grand to play Seeker."

Harry looked Laine up and down, trying to capture that sense of the Captain's Eye. She was short and slight. She had the right build for a Seeker, but could she fly?

"Maybe," he said appraisingly. "I'm not sure when trials are going to be held. I'll look for you."

"Don't I have to beat you to get starting position?"

"That's right. Think you can do it?"

Laine giggled. "Not a chance, but it'll be fun to try, and I hope I can make reserve squad."

"That's the spirit. We'll make a Quidditch player of you yet."

"If I've got to play Chaser, I suppose I can deal with that."

"So who else wants to go? Theo?"

Theo glanced over at Harry. He said nothing and looked back down to his plate.

Harry tried not to let it bother him. Theo would respond when it was time. At least he'd come up to the Great Hall for lunch after skipping both dinner and breakfast.

They made a quick trip down to the dorms to retrieve brooms. Harry had his Firebolt; Draco had his Numbus 2000. Crabbe, Goyle, and Millie all had Cleansweeps. Laine and Lucas had matched Nimbus 2001s. Ginny carried a pretty beat-up Comet.

"Nice broom, Weasley," Draco said. "You might be able to get a good few Galleons for that as an antique."

"Stuff it, Malfoy," Ginny replied sweetly. "It's what you rich bastards like to call an 'heirloom'."

Laine snickered, and Harry couldn't help but do the same.

Draco inclined his head slightly, granting her the point.

"It once belonged to my brother Charlie, who was asked to play for England. If it's good enough for him to train up with, it's good enough for me."

"Enough, Ginny, please," Draco said easingly. "I was only teasing."

"I don't find it funny." She tossed her hair back and began to put it in a tight braid. "I don't want to be on your team."

"Have it your way."

"Let's get in the sky."

They headed down to the Quidditch pitch. Draco carried the Quaffle. This was not the team ball, but Draco's own personal. He'd purchased it when he'd first conceived of trying out for the position of Chaser. He tossed it from hand to hand as he sized up the group.

"Which of you lot thinks you're good enough to fly with Millie and me? If Theo is out, we need someone to challenge the seventh years with. Crabbe and Goyle are likely to make the team this year as Beaters, so who'll it be? You, Slater? What about you, Slater?"

"I want to be Keeper," Lucas said.

"Well doesn't that just help us," Draco said snidely. "Start with some warm-up laps. Slater? Weasley?"

"Stuff it, Malfoy," Ginny said. "I told you, I am not on your team today."

"All right, Slater," Draco said, sounding a lot like Bletchley. "Get in formation. Listen for my signals. I assume you know the basic patterns?"

"Of course."

"Good. Let's see how well you've learned them."

Laine was not the worst flyer Harry had ever seen, but she had horrible precision with her turns. She was always a half second behind Draco and Millie as they ran through a basic approach pattern.

"Pick it up, Slater!" Draco called. "You're not counting."

"Sorry!"

Laine did improve a bit, enough to make Draco call a new pattern. She seemed to know this one better.

"Good! Again, but faster."

Crabbe, Goyle, and Ginny were talking strategy, watching the trio currently warming up.

"Malfoy?" Ginny called. "Are you ready yet?"

"No, but whatever. Get it together, Slater. Legal territory is half the pitch, unless Harry wants to play as the other Keeper."

Harry had never played the position in his life.

"Sure. Why not?"

"Harry is on our team," Draco said. "Slater, we're going to give you a workout."

"Let's go."

The final score was ridiculously high. Harry was rubbish as a Keeper. For all his skill in predicting the movements of the snitch, he was no use at all at guessing which hoop an oncoming Chaser would throw for.

Lucas had been rubbish as Keeper as well. Laine hadn't been bad as a Chaser, but she hadn't been very good either. She was better than Crabbe and Goyle, but not as good as Ginny.

Ginny had scored most of the goals for her team. She was a tricky flyer. The redhead's anger at Draco led her to play rough Slytherin Quidditch. He was limping as they made their way back to the common room. Everyone was tired but aside from Draco, they were extremely satisfied with their little outing.

"Absolutely miserable," Draco said. "Instincts of a flobberworm."

Draco kept up a running diatribe on the way back up to the castle, disparaging everything from Lucas' instincts and his sense of dress to Laine's clumsiness and throwing ability.

Harry let his friend rant. It was Draco's concern how and with whom he and Millie tried to make the team. Harry had simply been glad to fly again. He had been cooped up too long in Grimmauld Place. Being in the open sky made him indescribably happy. He had needed to be free.

They had just enough time to enjoy deliciously hot showers before heading up to the Great Hall, and after a big dinner, Harry went back to his dormitory feeling very full and very sleepy. He laid down on his bed and kicked off his shoes.

_Just a few minutes. I'll rest for a few minutes and then go back out._

And he slept.

* * *

Harry woke with a start. The sun stabbed into his eyes. He reached blearily for the curtain and yanked it into place.

Precious seconds later, his waking brain processed his action, and Harry sat bolt upright, groping at his waist for his wand.

Morning. It was morning, and Harry had fallen asleep last night without his protective spells. He started to swear softly. Stupid! How could he have been so careless? There was a new student in the dorm whom they knew nothing about. Professor Moody would be ashamed of him.

He hadn't even managed to take his glasses off the previous night. Resolving to do better, Harry looked around the dorm. The other five boys all had their curtains drawn. Nobody wanted to rise early on Sunday. Did he want to go back to sleep? Harry yawned. Yes, most certainly. He pulled his curtains closed, which automatically locked the magic protecting his bed.

Several hours later, Harry rose with the others and meandered up to the Great Hall for breakfast. As he ate, he kept an eye on Laine. She was poised, light-hearted, and viciously witty. She'd also been a real trooper during the Triwizard Tournament. Her counsel had helped keep things from getting too insane for him. Harry decided he needed to spend some quality time with his public relations agent. As everyone filed back to the common room, he approached and touched her on the elbow.

"Laine, would you like to go for a walk up on the battlements?"

"I would, Harry. Let me fetch my cloak."

Harry leaned against the wall near the fireplace. Laine quickly emerged, and they left the common room side by side.

"Excited about classes tomorrow?"

"Somewhat. I'm glad we get to have a small reprieve before diving into things. The chance to adjust back to Hogwarts is good. It's nice to be able to catch up with everyone since we could hardly leave the house over ths summer. Congratulations, by the way. That's a very shiny badge you have there."

"Thanks," Harry said, feeling somewhat bashful about having shined it so much.

"Given any points yet?"

"Nope."

"Taken any?"

"Haven't had a chance to."

"You could give me some points."

"What for?"

"For being sneaky and knowing a secret passage? C'mon."

Laine took his hand and turned left into the endless corridors of the dungeons. While one couldn't get "lost" per se, one could spend an awful lot of time getting nowhere if you didn't know where a secret passage was. There were several different ways to get up into the castle proper from the dungeons. Laine drew her wand and with a quick tap on the right sequence of bricks near the next turn she opened up one Harry had never taken before.

"Where's this lead?"

"The fourth floor. You wanted to get out on the battlements, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then in we go."

"Ladies first."

It was a narrow, winding staircase that went up and up and up. There were no landings, no other places to possibly get out. Laine was right in front of him holding her lighted wand high, and he found himself captivated by the swaying of her hips. His mind seemed to switch off as Harry climbed and watched.

Laine stopped at the top of the stairs and pushed on a bulging stone on the wall. The secret entrance slid open. Harry walked out to find himself on the battlements right next to a proper door leading to some classrooms.

"How'd you ever find this one?"

"My cousin Catherine told me. She was in Slytherin a long time ago. Ten years or more."

"Thanks for sharing it with me."

Laine smiled. Harry's heart, already going faster from his view as they ascended, skipped a beat. Did she still like him?

"My pleasure, Harry. Shall we?"

"Shall we what?"

Laine giggled. "Walk. That's what you asked me up here for, wasn't it?" She giggled again. "Or did you have some other purpose in mind?"

Yep, she still liked him.

"No, I didn't want to walk."

Laine continued to giggle. "Then what would you like to do with me?"

Did she have to talk so suggestively? Harry felt his brain detaching.

"Talk," Harry said, desperately grabbing at that word in his fevered state. "Talk. Want to talk."

"Talk? Sure, Harry. We can talk about anything you want. What's on your mind?"

Oh, if only she knew what was on his mind.

"The war."

Laine shivered though the day was not particularly cold. She drew her cloak around her shoulders, covering the light blouse she wore.

"Scary thing, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

"So what plans are you making to fight him?"

"Just going to study as hard as I can. I've got to get the ordinaries beat before I can try to get fancy. I wish it didn't take so much time to grow up!"

"Me too. I'm already bored with being fourteen. I want to be an adult!"

"I can't wait to come of age. Then I'll be able to Apparate." Openly.

"I've never much liked Apparition. Always made me queasy. I much prefer broom travel. Ever since the concealment charms have gotten so much better, it's very easy to just hop a broom and fly."

"If you have the time."

"True, but time spent in leisure is not time wasted."

"The view certainly is amazing from high up."

"Not that we'd know from this past summer."

Harry didn't reply. He still found it hard to accept that his news had been responsible for so many ruined summer holidays.

He changed the subject. "I was really glad to hear that your dad is supporting the Ministry."

"Daddy respects strong leadership. The way Minister Fudge has been so adamant about properly perparing and the steps he's taken to make sure we're ready, I mean. Daddy said throwing money around is one thing, but holding up a plan to spend it is entirely different. Addressing specific needs and shortages, strengths and weaknesses, and generally treating it like a business are the way to get ready."

"All numbers, you mean?"

"No, the numbers of the cost have ceased to have any meaning. It's going to take the Ministry ages to pay for all this, but Daddy told me about one of Fudge's speeches where he said that there was no price too high to pay for freedom."

"Just as long as they spend the money wisely."

"If we didn't take a risk on the Ministry paying back its debts, we'd all have to live with You-Know-Who just taking whatever he wants. Those Death Eaters are savages."

"I hope they're not getting loans from Gringotts."

Laine laughed softly. Harry could see her eyes dancing.

"You're so funny, Harry. No, there have been a lot of loans made by some prominent families. Other things are being done on faith."

"I should do that," Harry said. He had tons of money in his vault. A donation to the Ministry would definitely help the war effort.

"I'm sure it would help."

Laine and Harry walked side by side in silence for a moment. The view from the battlements of the castle was simply astounding. The Scottish mountains and forests were picturesque, vivid natural colours that pierced deep to the soul.

"So I think yesterday's practice proves I need help if I want to make the team next year. Maybe you could show me a couple of moves."

Harry was sure his shirt collar must have constricted. He caught another possible meaning behind her innocent words about sport and suddenly felt very warm.

"Sure," he managed to say, not trusting himself with more than the single word.

"Ooh, fantastic!" she squealed. She hugged him briefly. "You're the best, Harry."

To conceal the fact that he couldn't form a coherant sentence, Harry opened the door that led to the way up to the trophy room. He turned left instead and they followed the corridor out to the central staircases.

Quite a few people were bustling about the castle. Harry and Laine made their way down side by side. They saw no one they knew or cared to converse with until they were in the dungeons again. Two of the first year girls were standing in the wrong part of the hall whispering the wrong password. When they spotted Harry's badge, they practically collapsed on the spot with relief.

"Mister Prefect, we can't get in the common room," said a girl with light brown skin and black hair. She wore her Hogwarts robes.

"My name is Harry."

"The password is 'mutiny', right?" asked the other girl, who had pale white skin and blonde hair.

"No," Harry replied, shaking his head. "It's 'unity'."

"Hah!" said the first girl. "I was right, Cissy!"

"Aww. I wanted it to be mutiny," Cissy said sadly. "It made me think of pirates, and I really like pirates."

"I'm sorry, Cissy," Harry said.

"Hey wait a minute," the blonde girl said sharply, her head snapping up. "If you just said the password, why didn't the wall open?"

"Very observant, Cissy. That would be because we're not in front of the door."

"Told you so, Patty!"

"It's a little further on. Follow me."

Harry led the little procession around the corner and stopped at an unassuming section of the wall.

"Unity."

The stone door slid back and out of the way. Into the common room and down the steps they went.

"Thanks, Harry."

"My pleasure, Patty. That's why we're here."

"You handled that rather well, Mister Prefect."

"Oh, cut it out, Laine. I'm sure they were just trying to be polite."

"Wait until I tell the others."

Prompted by his encounter with the first years, Harry sought them out in the common room after lunch.

"Hi, Mister Prefect!" said one of the two girls he'd helped. He couldn't remember if it was Cissy or Patty.

"Hello, first years," he said to them all. "How are you all?"

"This place is amazing!"

"So many rooms!"

"I love the common room!"

"I'm Harry," he said to remind them. "You don't have to call me Mister Prefect or sir or anything like that. Harry. Help me remember all of your names."

"I'm Cissy Moor," said the first girl. She had her blonde hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. "My cousin John is a seventh year Ravenclaw, and my sister Brenda is a second year."

Patty, the other firstie Harry had spoken with, had light brown skin and had let down her black hair from earlier. "My brother Roberto is in Hufflepuff. He's a seventh year too."

"I'm Fiona Dee," said a girl with brown, shoulder-length hair. "You might know my brother Zachary. He's four years out of Hogwarts. Slytherin, of course."

"Of course Slytherin," said another girl with brown hair. Hers was longer, reaching to her elbows. "My sister Mary was in that same year. I'm Wendy, by the way. Wendy Ashland."

"They're all very impressive, yes?" said the last girl. "Hullo, Harry. I'm Pam, and my sister Emma says hi."

"Emma?" Harry tried to think of who he knew named Emma. It was hard. He realized he knew quite a few people now.

"Bright yellow hair?"

"Emma!" How could Harry have been so daft? "Emma Ruthven, guitar player for Wand Smasher."

"The same." Pam smiled widely.

"How is she?"

"She's well. They went on tour last year and made a pile of Galleons. Now they've gone into another writing phase."

"Fantastic. Please send her my regards."

"I will."

"Done much exploring yet?"

"Some. We were about to head out and look around some more. We've got all this free time, so it only makes sense that we learn our way around when we don't have to worry about getting to a class."

"A very good idea," Harry agreed. "Well, I won't keep you then. Be safe."

"Bye!"

The first year girls departed the common room to navigate the castle. Harry wondered if they'd thought to invite the boys.

"Nah," Daphne said when he said it later. "Boys have ghoul pox."

* * *

That Sunday evening after dinner, Draco pulled Harry aside as they left the Great Hall. Daphne and Pansy followed out of curiosity. They went up one flight of stairs and turned down a side corridor.

"What is it, Draco?" Harry asked.

"Do you remember me telling you about the amazing room I found while I was staying at the castle over the summer? I want to show you."

"What room is this?" Pansy inquired.

"It appears to be a room that provides anything you ask for. I was up on the seventh floor, bored out of my mind. There's nothing to do around this place when you're by yourself, so I was wishing I could have someone to duel with at least. Well this door just appears out of nowhere and inside I found a whole bunch of training dummies, books full of hexes and counterhexes, everything we'd ever need to work our skills up a bit."

"Oh my goodness!" Daphne sounded astounded.

"I left, but then I wanted to go back in for one of the books. So I opened the door again, but I was thinking about reading in bed, and there in the middle of the room was a bed!"

"That's incredible," Pansy breathed.

"What else can it do?" Harry asked.

"I wanted to write a letter to Father, and a desk appeared, complete with parchment, ink, and quills."

"I wonder," Daphne said speculatively.

"Take us there at once, Draco," Pansy said.

They took a secret passage up to the fifth floor and then took a normal staircase up to the seventh. Draco stopped in front of a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls. It was a gruesome scene, the result of a foolish attempt to train trolls for the ballet, and Harry had never lingered up here.

Draco paced in front of the blank section of wall, turning sharply at the window just beyond and then back at the man-sized vase on its other side.

"We need a place to brew a potion," he muttered. "We need to brew a potion, and we can't go to the dungeons."

As he made his third pass, a highly polished door appeared in the wall.

"By Merlin," Pansy breathed.

Draco reached out, seized the brass handle, and opened the door for them. He bowed slightly as they walked in.

Harry couldn't believe his eyes. The room was almost exactly like Professor Snape's office. It was bigger, to be sure, with more shelves and more ingredients. One whole shelf was devoted to books with titles like _Brewing Beyond the N.E.W.T., Power Potions Proficiency,_ and _Moste Potente Potions_.

A rack to one side held an assortment of cauldrons. There was pewter, iron, steel, stone, copper, brass, silver, gold, platinum, and other materials Harry couldn't identify. There were small, medium, and large cauldrons. The whole lot was worth incalculable Galleons.

The centrepiece of the room was a commanding stone table. There was all the bench space one could ever ask for. A wooden block held dozens of knives. There was a firespot on the table and another on the floor.

"You could brew anything in this room." Harry was phenominally impressed.

"That's the idea."

"Quite a good find, Draco," Pansy admitted. "Maybe there might be some hope for you yet."

Draco said nothing, but he bowed rakishly.

"Oh, the uses we can put this room to," Daphne said, already chewing her lower lip in thought. "This is fantastic, Harry. You seem to be collecting secret rooms in this castle."


	10. Defence With Dolores

**Chapter Ten - Defence With Dolores**

Monday morning came too early, as it always did. Despite going to bed at an entirely reasonable hour, the Slytherins always groused when the sun came up over the lake and through their picture window.

Harry woke up, reached for his glasses and his wand, which now had a place on his headboard. He cast the key to his Locking Hexes and pulled back the curtains. He slid his feet into his slippers, grabbed his bath things, and headed to the shower.

Once he was scrubbed clean and had brushed his teeth, he returned to the dorm to dress. He quickly donned a uniform shirt, vest, and trousers. He tied his tie with praticed ease.

_I've got Potions and Herbology today. Best not to wear the good robes._

Harry picked up his comb and attempted to do something with his hair. Though it had calmed down some since he had started his Animagus training, Harry still had problems with his hair. The messy black mop often seemed like it had a mind of its own. When it was moody, it tenaciously resisted all efforts to tame it. Today though, it was cooperating.

"Comb it all forward," his enchanted mirror advised him, "then raise up your bangs with a little styling potion."

Following such advice would expose his scar for everyone to see. Harry hated it when people stared at his scar. It reminded them all of Voldemort, but it reminded Harry of the night he'd lost his parents. He never truly forgot, but sometimes he was able to not think about it.

"Thanks, Shoshi, but no thanks."

"I'm only telling you what will look best. Trust me to know. You'll only be sorry later."

Harry's Reflective Friend definitely had personality. He'd heard other mirrors talk, but Shoshi really was on a whole other level. She almost seemed like a real person at times. If she hadn't been so happy all the time, he might have suspected a trapped consciousness.

Once Harry and Draco were finished dressing, they went out to the common room. Before much longer, Pansy and Daphne emerged from the girls' dormitory. Tracy and Millie were hot on their heels.

"Let's go," Pansy said.

"Let's wait for Theo," Harry suggested.

"Good idea," Draco said.

It took quite some time. Blaise Zabini emerged first and came over to them. "Good morning, everybody."

"Hi, Zabini."

"Thanks for waiting for me."

"We weren't," Draco said shortly. "We're waiting on Theo."

"Notty was still getting dressed when I left."

"Thanks. We'll see you up at breakfast."

Zabini looked a bit shocked at being so abruptly dismissed, but he didn't further inflame the situation. He went up by himself.

"Tosser," Draco said as the wall closed.

They were starting to get restless very hungry when finally Theo walked out from the dorm at a snail's pace.

"Good morning, Theo," Draco said.

"Hey, Theo," said Harry.

Theo did not reply. He stood there and looked at them blankly.

"Ready for breakfast?"

Theo shrugged emptily.

"Well, let's go then."

Harry led the gang upstairs to the Great Hall, exchanging worried glances with Draco. If Theo's no-care attitude was going to extend to classes, would he be able to keep up with their assignments? O.W.L. year was brutal from all accounts. Could Theo hold it together?

"I still can't believe this schedule," Daphne complained at the table. "Three double lessons in one day? Three? After Defence we have D-Potions, lunch, D-Transfiguration, and D-Herbology. What are they trying to do to us?"

"Make us learn?" Harry quipped.

"Make us have nervous breakdowns, more like."

"We'll get through this. We should start making studying schedules."

"Sure, Tracy," Pansy said with exaggerated patience. "We'll get right on that."

"I'm serious. It is absolutely possible to do adequate studying and still get eight hours of sleep a night."

"If you say so," Pansy replied skeptically. "Let's go find out what Professor Umbridge is like."

Dolores Umbridge was a teacher unlike any they'd yet had for Defence Against the Dark Arts. She was not hard and grizzled like Professor Moody had been. She spoke confidently, unlike Professor Quirrell's stutturing façade. Nobody compared to Professor Lockhart. The only one who even came close to her was Professor Lupin, but there was something slightly off about her.

The woman loved the colour pink, and Harry thought her choice of clothes was obnoxious. Though she wore the standard black robe of a teacher, she left it open to let her pink clothes blind anyone within twenty feet. She had a pleasant smile seemingly permanently affixed to her face. She called the roll in a very business-like manner, not even pausing when she came to Harry's name, and tucked the scroll away in her handbag.

"Welcome to Defence Against the Dark Arts, fifth years," she said. "I am pleased to see you all here. There are two texts assigned for this class, which you should have purchased. This will be largely a practical course, but there is a strong academic portion as well."

Practical Defence? Harry exchanged glances with Draco. Fantastic. Ever since Professor Lupin had begun setting the curriculum straight, things had done nothing but improve.

"The most effective duellers know a wide variety of spells and the counters to them. Use of the proper counter is more elegant than a Protego shield, but most importantly, it uses far less energy. I will drill you on countercurses. Consider yourself warned."

Professor Moody had taught basic shielding, some general counterspells, and principles of magical combat, as well as throughly exposing them to the Unforgiveable Curses (one of them literally). Professor Umbridge sounded like she was going to continue along those lines. Harry started to grin.

_This year might be rather fun._

Professor Umbridge paused for a moment, smiling hugely. "There will also be a bit of a treat for you all this year. The practical portion of the class will be augmented by guest instruction from members of the Auror Corps."

Harry felt a surge of excitement. The Aurors were supposed to be some of the best of the best. To get any of that training, even if it might be at a slower pace, was a fantastic opportunity.

"Finally, I will be supervising the creation of a new extra-curricular organization, designed to help students hone their skills and techniques. You will be able to practice duelling and develop your full potential."

_A new Duelling Club?_

Things just got better and better. Harry decided instantly that he would sign up. He glanced at Draco again and saw similar anticipation on his face.

Umbridge gave a little "hem, hem" and looked around the room at each of them. Her grave expression grounded Harry's euphoria. When she had everyone's attention, she continued.

"Dark times have come again, and this subject will be your most important. The Ministry will need every wand to win the struggle against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It is my job to make sure you are trained up properly to stand toe to toe with the Death Eaters when they come for you."

It seemed as though Professor Umbridge understood her job quite well, and she made no bones about it. She didn't try to disguise what was out there. In that way, she was again similar to Professor Moody. Neither one tried to sugarcoat it for the students. Harry felt his appreciation for Professor Umbridge go up a notch.

"Now then, please open the Odnol text to page seven. We will begin at the beginning."

Professor Umbridge lectured them about countercurses for the rest of the lesson. When the bell signaled the end of the session, Harry packed up his things and headed for the door with the others.

"Mister Potter, a moment, please?" Umbridge called out.

"I'll wait for you," Draco said.

"Thanks."

Harry headed up to the teacher's desk, wondering what the woman could possibly want.

"Yes, Professor?"

Umbridge had a very sober expression. Her lips were pursed, and she folded her hands together.

"Mister Potter, I must speak candidly with you. Are you planning to join my little duelling club?"

"Yes, Professor."

Umbridge was very pleased, judging from the small smile that appeared on her face.

"Excellent. I had hoped I wouldn't have to persuade you. I must ask you to pass the word among your fellow prefects that they must join."

"Must?"

"Yes, of course. Prefects patrol the corridors after curfew. What if you should encounter a Death Eater breaking into the castle?"

"I suppose we'd have to call for help."

"Indeed you would, Mister Potter, and it simply would not do for you to be killed while waiting for help to come. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I suppose that would be a bad thing. This club sounds like fun."

Professor Umbridge's eyes instantly turned inexorable. Wrath and fury were promised to him if he did not lose his levity.

"It is not 'fun', Mister Potter. It is deadly serious. The Dark Lord's followers are merciless. They will do Unforgiveable things, especially to you."

"Not if I do them first," he quipped.

Harry never had been able to hold his tongue, even while facing Voldemort. Umbridge could hardly intimidate him when her punishments consisted of points, lines, or detention.

Umbridge's attitude turned even colder, if such a thing were possible.

"It is no joking matter, Mister Potter."

"I know, Professor. Really, I do. I take Voldemort very seriously."

She winced as he said the name, though she tried to hide it. "Yes, well," she said, sounding a bit flustered. "I will be posting details of the club within the week. Now get to class."

Harry grinned as he walked from the classroom with a spring in his step. It wasn't often that he got a chance to be cheeky with a professor. Most of them would take points. He could really only get away with it if it were Snape or Vector, and they required a refined sort of cheek in order to be sufficiently amused. If all it took to fluster Umbridge was to say the forbidden name, then Harry would be sure to say it loudly and often during discussions.

Draco was waiting for him, as promised. Tracy was with him.

"What'd she want?" Draco asked curiously as they headed down to Potions lecture.

"She wanted to see if I planned on joining the Duelling Club."

"Small wonder why."

Harry grimaced. It would be a good marketing tactic to have it be known that the Boy-Who-Lived had signed up.

"I know. I'm being manipulated into lending my fame for this thing, but I guess there's nothing for it." Harry shook his head, torn between desperation and frustration. "I do want to join. It sounds like it'll be a great experience. Aurors teaching us duelling stuff? Sign me up, please."

"Yeah, me too," Draco said. "Always take advantage of offers like that."

"Agreed," Tracy said. "The more disciplines you study and master, the more powerful you become."

Harry wasn't interested in power, per se, but knowing how to duel would definitely help him fight Voldemort. The evil wizard had wanted to go through the motions of a duel that awful night in the courtyard of the old prison. Harry had played at duels with his friends, everyone as clumsy as he was. Voldemort was much more dangerous. Next time, Harry intended to be prepared.

"Where are the others?" Harry asked.

"Pansy and Daphne went to go gossip in the girls' room with Samantha and Veronica," Tracy replied. Her tone made it quite clear how she felt about their whispering.

"I hope they don't take too long. It's Potions next."

There was a queue lined up outside Snape's classroom door. Harry saw Ron Weasley leaning up against the wall. He'd grown like a weed over the summer. He probably stood about six inches taller than Harry now, and he was getting a bit stouter around the middle. He had his arms folded across his chest, and his disdain for the Slytherins was almost palpable. Harry ignored him. It was far too soon to start picking a fight with the prat. Most likely, if he only waited, Weasley would begin on his own.

The Weasel hated Slytherins with a passion only Gryffindor righteousness could ignite. The fact that he was wrong didn't matter in the slightest to him. All Slytherins were evil, and that's all there was to say as far as Weasley was concerned. Junior Death Eaters, every one of them.

_Nevermind that my parents were killed by Voldemort. No, that couldn't possibly matter at all._

Pansy and Daphne came running up, giggling depite their shortness of breath. Tracy tried to keep her expression neutral, but Harry knew her well enough to recognize how silly she thought the pair was.

The wooden door creaked ominously as it opened to let them in. Several of the Gryffindors jumped as the Slytherins rolled their eyes. They all filed inside and sat down. The benches in this laboratory were configured for individual workstations.

Harry walked down to the front of the room and put his bag on the first bench. Draco took the place nearest him, raising one eyebrow curiously in Harry's direction.

"Settle down," said Snape coldly, shutting the door behind them.

There was no real need for the call to order; the moment the class had heard the door close, quiet had fallen and all fidgeting stopped. Snape's mere presence was usually enough to ensure a class's silence.

"Before we begin today's lesson," said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your OWL, or suffer my _displeasure_."

His gaze lingered on Neville Longbottom, who gulped.

"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on. "I take only the very best into my NEWT Potions class, O-level students, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye."

His eyes rested this time on Ron Weasley, and his lip curled. "Weasley, where may one find a bezoar?"

Snape never forgot anything, and he'd needled Weasley about bezoars on the first day of class in their first two years. They'd never found out from the red-haired Gryffindor.

"From the stomach of a goat, sir," Weasley replied.

"Correct. It certainly took you long enough. What season is best for findng Ashwinder eggs?"

Weasley gave a strangled gasp. "I don't know, sir," he said through clenched teeth.

"Yes, some of us will undoubtedly be bidding us farewell," said Snape softly, "but there is another long year until that happy day. Whether or not you are intending to attempt NEWT, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high pass level I have come to expect from my OWL students.

"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at the Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing. The ingredients and method," Snape said with a flick of his wand, "are on the blackboard." The writing on the board revealed itself. "You will find everything you need in the store cupboard," he continued and flicked his wand again. The door of the said cupboard sprang open. "You have an hour and a half. Start."

There was little time for idle chatter, not that Snape ever tolerated much of that in his class. He had set them a very difficult, fiddly potion. The ingredients had to be added to the cauldron in precisely the right order and quantities; the mixture had to be stirred exactly the right number of times, firstly in clockwise, then in anti-clockwise directions; the heat of the flames on which it was simmering had to be lowered to exactly the right level for a specific number of minutes before the final ingredient was added.

Harry was not used to brewing potions on his own. He had always worked with either Tracy or Draco. They were both very good and had taught him a lot. Harry enjoyed brewing, but the prospect of doing it himself made him slightly nervous. He took a deep breath and began to measure out powdered moonstone with a steady hand. He knew could do this if he just put his mind to it. Harry had read all about it last night. He made sure to copy down the instructions on a parchment that he pinned to the wooden cabinet.

The next hour passed with a blur of activity. There were a lot of ingredients and they all required precise preparation. There was not enough time to get everything ready before starting to brew, so he had to prepare the latter things on the go. The trick was knowing which things could be easily done and which would require more care.

Sweat dripped down his face from the heat, the stress, and the fast pace he was working at. He wished he had time to wipe his brow, but he needed to add the next ingredient. He brushed off the balance pan and began to weigh out dried dandelion stems. He pointed his wand at his mortar and pestle.

"_Evanesco!_"

He carefully transferred the dried stems to the now pristinely clean vessel and began to grind them to a fine powder. It wouldn't do to contaminate the component with things that might shift the potion's reaction out of whack.

"A light silver vapour should now be rising from your potion," called Snape, with ten minutes left to go.

The surface of Harry's potion was a shimmering mist of silver vapour. He smiled, very satisfied with his efforts. Draco had done it right as well, as had Tracy and Theo. Pansy's mist was not silver but dull brown. That wasn't good. He spared a glance around to see how everyone else was faring.

Finnigan was feverishly prodding the flames at the base of his cauldron with the tip of his wand, as they seemed to be going out. Weasley's was spitting green sparks, and it was here that Professor Snape stopped. He looked down at the contents of Weasley's cauldron with a horrible smirk on his face.

"Weasley, what is this supposed to be?"

The Slytherins at the front of the class all looked up eagerly; they loved hearing Snape taunt Weasley.

"The Draught of Peace," said Weasley tensely.

"Tell me, Weasley," said Snape softly, "can you read?"

Draco laughed.

"Yes, I can," said Weasley, his fingers clenched tightly around his wand.

"Read the third line of the instructions for me, Weasley."

Weasley squinted at the blackboard; to be fair, it was not easy to make out the instructions through the haze of multi-colored steam now filling the dungeon. There was a reason the Slytherins always sat at the front of the class.

"'Add powdered moonstone, stir three times anti-clockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes then add two drops of syrup of hellebore.'"

"Which direction do you stir the potion, Weasley?"

"Anti- anti-clockwise, sir." He was deathly pale.

"Which way did you stir it?"

"C- clockwise, sir."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Clockwise, sir."

"How many times did you stir it?"

"T-three, sir."

"Are you sure, Weasley? Are you really sure of that?"

There was a dreadful silence. You could have heard a pin drop.

"No, sir."

Professor Snape smiled, and it was a scary sight to see. Weasley shivered, as though the temperature had suddenly dropped.

"I know that, Weasley, which means that this mess is utterly worthless. _Evanesco_."

The contents of Weasley's cauldron vanished.

"Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name and bring it up to my desk for testing," said Snape. "Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion making, to be handed in on Thursday."

Harry tried not to smirk as he transfered an aliquot of his potion to a flagon. Professor Snape really hated Gryffindors and incompetence. Neville Longbottom's had achieved the consistency of just-mixed cement, and he was now having to gouge it out of his cauldron. Weasley would hardly get a worse mark than him.

It wasn't just Gryffindors who had failed either.

There was a small explosion, and Goyle's flagon shattered. "Bugger!" shouted Goyle as the arm of his robe caught on fire. Tracy was quick with her Water Blast Charm, but the robe was ruined. Even if the burn could be repaired, the smell of smoke would never come out.

"All right?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. It didn't get me."

"Lucky. Pay more attention."

Everyone else marched up to Snape's desk with filled and corked flagons. When at long last the bell rang, everyone hurried out of the dungeons and up to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Well, that was fun," Draco said.

"Loads," agreed Harry. "Though I don't know if I care so much for this working by myself bit."

"Makes sense. You don't have a partner during the practical either."

"This is true. Oh well. Time to find out how good I really am."

"Better than Weasley. I've never seen him so fit to be tied. It was beautiful."

Blaise Zabini, the returned Slytherin, cleared his throat. "Weasley hasn't changed a bit, I see. I did rather think he might have learned a thing or two since first year."

"We keep trying to teach him," Draco replied. "He just keeps forgetting. I'm sure it's because he was dropped on his head quite often as a child. It's the first day back, and already I'm tired of him. This is not going to be a pleasant year."

"He's nothing but a braggart," Harry said. "Every time it comes to wands or blows, he loses, yet he keeps instigating. It's extremely puzzling."

"The trouble being, Hair," Blaise said, "that the more people hear something said by a loud mouth, the more they believe it."

"That's right, frog." Draco considered the new-old Slytherin for a moment. "How would you go about taking care of him? Teach him a lesson, then?"

"I'd dare him to enter a vampire's lair at dusk and switch his wand with a Transfigured baguette before he went in," Blaise said without missing a beat.

"Wow," Draco said after a moment. "That's twisted. You do that to some chap? Is that why you came back? Get tossed out by the snooty French?"

"I'm here, Dray, because Mother had a falling out with Madame Maxime."

"Stop calling me that ridiculous name. What sort of falling out?"

"What does it matter, Dray? Mother pulled me out in protest. She's rather fond of that, you might recall. It was that incident with the mountain troll that made her transfer me to Beauxbatons in the first place."

"So what are you doing back? It's not like this place has gotten any safer. Just ask Harry."

Zabini shot Harry an inquisitive glance.

"Basilisks, dementors, Death Eaters, dragons; the list goes on."

"Sounds like I've missed some exciting times."

The ceiling had turned an even murkier grey during the morning. Rain was lashing the high windows. Despite the foul weather, Harry found himself somewhat cheerful.

"Hey, Sam! Have a seat for a minute."

"Sure, Harry. What's up?"

"We had Professor Umbridge this morning, and she had an announcement to make. She's going to bring back the Duelling Club."

"The Duelling Club? Fantastic."

"All prefects have to join. We might need to defend the students."

"Reasonable. Remember when Professor Snape taught all the prefects to do the Patronus Charm? He said anyone who couldn't do it would be replaced."

"He meant it too."

"He did. This is no different. I'll spread the word."

"There should be an official announcement made soon."

"Very good. I'll spread it around. Thanks."

After quickly devouring some sliced chicken and cucumber sandwiches, they hurried along to the Transfiguration classroom. They sat down and readied quills and parchment, awaiting Professor McGonagall who also felt it necessary to remind her students of the examination at the end of the school year.

"These tests are the most important you have yet faced. Your results will directly impact which subjects you will be permitted to continue studying here at Hogwarts. Only those who achieve Outstanding or Exceeds Expectations will be allowed to attempt NEWT Transfiguration. You cannot pass an OWL," she went on grimly, "without serious application, practice and study. I see no reason why everybody in this class should not achieve an OWL in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work."

Goyle, who was pants at Transfiguration, groaned slightly.

"Yes, Mister Goyle, even you. If you would only apply yourself-" She shook her head, dismissing her tangent. "See me after class, Mister Goyle. We'll work out a plan for you."

"Rum luck," Draco said in an undertone to Harry.

"Today we are starting Vanishing Spells. These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until NEWT level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your OWL."

Harry felt Professor McGonagall was overselling it quite a bit. To his delight, he was able to do it at once. It was effortless. Somehow his wand moved of its own accord in the proscribed pattern. He got the ennunciation exactly right, and his snail vanished from sight.

"What's this? Excellent, Mister Potter. Ten points to Slytherin for a masterful first effort."

"Well done, Harry," Draco whispered. "Show me how it's done."

Professor McGonagall's eyes lingered on Harry for a moment or two longer than he was comfortable with. He turned away and corrected Draco's grip on his wand.

By the end of the lesson, Harry was the only one who had successfully done the task, though Draco had come close, and he was the only one not given homework.

"Unfair," Draco hissed. "I almost had it."

"You still had half your snail."

The Herbology lesson was held in Greenhouse Two, which was an even more interesting place than where they'd been last year. This greenhouse was commonly kept locked and chained just to make it really clear how off-limits it was.

During the last year, Harry and Padma had often worked together in Herbology, Slytherin's shared class with Ravenclaw. Now that they were broken up, Harry would need to find a new partner. Theo had often worked alone last year. Now Harry put his bag on the same table. Draco and Daphne sat down with them as well.

Theo looked up with those empty eyes of his. Harry tried to supress his crawling flesh at how very Not There his friend was. Theo looked back down at his hands in his lap.

Pansy and Terry still worked with Goyle and Mandy Brocklehurst. Crabbe, Millie, and Tracy were joined by Zabini. Padma, Harry noticed, was working with Anthony Goldstein.

"Welcome to Greenhouse Two, fifth years," Professor Sprout said cheerfully. "If you thought you worked hard last year, you haven't seen anything yet. The sheer variety of botany is all fair game on the OWL. You'll likely need to memorize your textbook, if you haven't already."

"There's no new text, but I'll expect you to take detailed notes. This year we cover some plants that are _really_ dangerous. Knowing how to identify and protect yourself from the plants in this greenhouse will be a major part of our new curriculum this year. Professor Dumbledore thinks it's wise to study as many ways to fight the war unconventionally as we can. For example, what did we study in second year that could be a very potent offensive weapon? Yes, Mister Boot."

"Mandrakes, Professor. The cry of the mature Mandrake is fatal to those who hear it. The cries of immature Mandrakes can incapacitate people or drive them away."

"Well done. Five points to Ravenclaw."

Terry cast a smug expression towards Theo, but he was facing the wrong direction. Terry settled for smirking at Draco and Harry. It seemed that the rivalry was starting up without pause. Draco waited until Sprout's back was turned and flashed him a crude hand gesture.

"Today we'll be talking about the identifying features of the Man-Eating Snapdragon. Now I have a fine speciman here behind the chain-link fence. Go on and take a good look."

They took careful notes for one half of the double lesson and spent the other half in Greenhouse Seven replanting Flutterby bushes, which Professor Sprout assured them would come up on the O.W.L..

"For homework I want you all to write two scrolls of parchment on the Snapdragons. Be sure to include ways of subduing them."

Harry tried not to groan. Two scrolls of parchment? Yuck! Tired and smelling strongly of dragon dung, Professor Sprout's preferred type of fertilizer, the Slytherins tromped down to the dungeons to bathe and prepare for dinner.

"Start every assignment the night it's due so you get a rough idea of how long it'll take you to complete," Palce recommended.

They took that advice to hand and hurried up to the library right after dinner to get going on their first essays of what promised to be a great many more. Being excused by McGonagall was a stroke of luck, and he used the extra time to get his Herbology assignment in order. They worked until minutes before curfew and ran for the dorm. Instead of heading to bed, they set up again in the common room and got another couple of hours of studying done before turning in.

* * *

**UMBRIDGE REVIVES DUELLING CLUB**

by Rita Skeeter

When Hogwarts last had a duelling club, it was the brainchild of disgraced celebrity Gilderoy Lockhart who got blasted arse over teakettle by Professor Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House, at the first and only meeting. The students also saw a spectacular display by Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy (then 2nd year Slytherins). Malfoy summoned a snake and Lockhart foolishly jumped in and made the snake mad. The fangs were nearly descending on a Muggleborn student, Hufflepuff's Justin Finch-Fletchly, when Potter revealed one of his gifts to us and employed Parseltongue to save the boy's life. It is perhaps the first instance of the traditionally Dark talent to be used for good. If anyone could do it, it would be our Harry.

Professor Umbridge announced last night that the Ministry was directing the reformation of the duelling club, and we hope that no such mishaps will take place while a qualified instructor is in charge. The goal of the club is to give students a place to hone battle spells in safety and with proper instruction.

"Many students feel helpless being here at school while their families are at risk. Here at Hogwarts we are safe, but many of our society are exposed with improper protections and safeguards in place. I urge everyone to read the Ministry pamphlets and implement the advice therein. With the formation of this youth club, students will have a place to work out their feelings. They will be able to practice, to be able to feel like they _are_ doing something to help."

Asked about the new club, school governor Lucius Malfoy, 41, of Wiltshire, had this to say: "Everyone who can must fight, for we struggle against a Darkness so absolute that it would murder children. It will take all of our goodness, all of our righteousness to combat this evil. It begins with good solid practice. The governors support this new club to the fullest."

* * *

Tuesday morning came too soon, and it looked to be just as intense a day as Monday. Arithmancy followed by three double lessons. Harry groaned. Right after lunch was double History. Even though Harry liked History, he hated having it on a full stomach. Binns was so boring he could put a brick to sleep.

"Welcome to OWL year Arithmancy, fifth years," Professor Vector said brightly. "This year we are going to dive right into algebra. If you did the required reading, you should be well-prepared to do so. We will study new material until Christmas, and after the New Year, we will begin a comprehensive review of all material covered thus far."

Oh joy. Review. Well, at least there was only new stuff for half the year. It would be interesting to see how much of the old stuff he had retained.

"There is a significant written portion to the examination, and you will have to solve many equations and write many proofs. It is a long road, but a rewarding one for those who achieve OWL. In the NEWT-level, we will begin a study of the wonderful world of trigonometry and calculus, wherein we will apply all of the concepts of geometry and algebra we have discussed. This is where it gets fun."

Harry had heard the seventh-years bemoaning the topic of calculus and wondered how their teacher could promise them something so awful with such a perfectly happy smile.

"Let us begin by discussing equations with multiple variables."

They struggled through Arithmancy and headed to Defence where Professor Umbridge continued her lesson about countercurses. She assigned them an essay on basic wand maintenance.

"Excuse me, Professor," Pansy said.

"Do raise your hand, Miss Parkinson."

"Sorry, ma'am." Pansy raised her hand.

"Yes, dear?"

"I don't understand the nature of the essay. What has wand polish got to do with Defence?"

"Well it's quite simple, really. Your wand is your most important tool. Given time and ingredients, a wizard can brew a potion to do just about anything, but the wand is what truly releases our direct magic. The power to summon or banish, to conjure or curse, is all possible because of the wand. It's why the Ministry snaps the wands of convicted criminals. A wand that is lost or misplaced has a way of returning to its master. Such a valuable object should be cared for, wouldn't you say?"

"Well, yes."

"Then knowing how to keep your wand in top form is a matter of personal security. One roll, if you please."

Harry ate a light lunch. Maybe if he didn't stuff himself, like he saw Weasley doing at the Gryffindor table, he would be able to pay attention through History of Magic. Nevertheless, as he'd feared, Harry couldn't help but doze as Professor Binns moved on from goblin wars to the giant wars. At least if he slept in class, Harry thought drowsily, he'd be able to stay up later at night and be productive.

The last class of the day was their first incidence of Charms, and it was a double lesson. Harry generally enjoyed his time here. Professor Flitwick had always treated him quite fairly.

"What you must remember," said little Professor Flitwick squeakily perched as ever on a pile of books so that he could see over the top of his desk, "is that these examinations may influence your futures for many years to come! If you have not already given serious thought to your careers, now is the time to do so. In the meantime, I'm afraid, we shall be working harder than ever to ensure that you all do yourselves justice!"

They then spent over an hour reviewing Summoning Charms, which according to Professor Flitwick were bound to come up in their O.W.L., and he rounded off the lesson by setting them their largest ever amount of Charms homework.

At least Harry was able to handle the Summoning Charm without a problem. When he was able to demonstrate the Charm on the first go, he earned ten points for Slytherin and was exempted from the homework.

"That's twice now, you bloody sod," Draco railed as they headed back to the dorm.

"I needed my broom in the first task," Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to do some of this homework all the rest of us have to do."

Harry laughed. "Even more work? No thanks."

"Somehow I thought you'd say that."

* * *

On Wednesday, the schedule eased up a bit. Those who weren't taking Divination were able to skip first period. Harry joined the others in the common room as they used the time to their advantage. They only had a single Charms lesson before lunch, then in Transfiguration, McGonagall collected their homework about Vanishing Spells and assigned them another long essay about the Inanimatus Conjurus Spell. Wednesday was also Astronomy day. They had a normal lesson to round off their classes, but they also had a full lesson that night up on the Tower.

Thursday was another day to sleep in, but of course they didn't. Double Muggle Studies was a class no Slytherin took, but the so-called "free" was the perfect time to get homework completed. In Ancient Runes, Professor Babbling began them on Celtic symbols. After the new year, they would also begin to review the Futhark runes and derivatives they had already studied. The O.W.L.s would require translation and the building of runic structures.

Lunch was followed by double Arithmancy and a splitting headache that put him in a foul mood for double Potions where their moonstone essays were due. Snape stood at the front of the room and watched as each student deposited a scroll on his desk. He took the opportunity to frown at many of them.

"I have the results of your Draughts of Peace from our last meeting. I'm pleased to announce that four were made perfectly. Forty points to Slytherin for the fine efforts of Mister Malfoy, Mister Potter, Mister Nott, and Miss Greengrass. Everyone else will write an essay about the Draught to be turned in next session. Now, turn your attention to the board. Moonstone, as you should know all about from your assignment is commonly used in what sort of potions, Greengrass?"

Professor Snape's questions could earn or lose a great many points. Before long, Slytherin had earned a quick thirty. Harry had to be sharp and on his toes. Thinking with a headache was righteously difficult. Thankfully that was the last class of the day.

All in all, the first week back was a bit of a shocker. The number of double lessons, coupled with the quantity of homework assignments, was exhausting. The staggering amount of work and study being required of them was intimidating. It was as though each teacher thought they were only going to be taking one of the tests - theirs - and were trying to cram the whole of the discipline into each of their heads.

Friday night, normally a time to relax, was now anything but calming. It hadn't taken long to accept that every available minute should be devoted to academic study. There would be a few hours allotted over the weekend for recreation (in order to maintain top mental acuity), but otherwise it was all essays and charts and diagrams and translations. The fifth years were awake just as late as the rest of the house, but they were in their dorms with their noses in the books.

Saturday morning, normally a time to sleep in, was now anything but restful. The alarm went off at the same time as on a weekday. They still showered and ate a quick breakfast as they headed up to the library to read up for their Transfiguration.

Lunch was also brief. Harry was glad to talk of anything but Inanimatus Conjurus, but all too soon the books were calling him back. Tracy didn't even look up from her reading and ate one-handed.

They returned to the library until dinner, this time going over Astronomy and Arithmancy. Harry was reviewing his notes on the moons of Jupiter.

Thinking of Astronomy made him think about the moon. It would be full tonight. Moony and Padfoot would be racing around in that room in the basement, chasing and playing. Harry keenly missed his almost-uncles. He'd finally been allowed to run with his father's old pack, yet he couldn't leave school. Well, he might change into the mongoose and escape off the grounds, but London was much too far to Apparate. By the time he got there, the sun would have gone down anyway, but just because he couldn't be there in person (in mongoose?) didn't mean he couldn't be there in spirit. He would run in the night because he could.

Harry secured himself behind his curtains and pulled out the magic mirror that let him talk to his godfather.

"Sirius Black!"

"Harry Potter!"

"Hi, Sirius."

"Harry, is everything well?"

"Yes. I won't stay long. I know what tonight is. I just wanted to say hi. Tell Moony I'm thinking of him. I wish I could be there with you guys."

"I'll tell him, Harry, but we were just about to head to the basement. I'm sorry, but-"

"It's fine, Padfoot. Go. I'll catch you up later."

"Good night, Harry."

"Good night."

Harry left the shelter of the dormitory, bringing along his invisibility cloak for the morning, when he would have to get back to the dungeons unseen. He ambled along the corridor, hurrying along a couple of fourth year Ravenclaws who were being a little too public with their display of affection.

The hour grew later, and the full moon rose over the horizon. Harry watched it from his perch in a window nook. With a thought, he transformed.

The world always exploded on him with a rushing suddenness whenever he changed. The scents, the sounds, and the sensations were all overwhelming. He blinked several times and shook himself out.

_I'm thinking of you, Moony._

Harry set off at a brisk trot. The suits of armour were truly towering from this perspective. He encountered several ghosts, including Ravenclaw's Grey Lady, but they paid him no mind.

Harry practiced darting from shadow to shadow. His mongoose had a very long jump, and he could spring in the air a fair amount as well. He made his way up the next passageway and turned left towards some unused classrooms.

His sharpened hearing picked up the sound of students out of bounds. From the sound of things, Harry didn't want to disturb them, especially not as a prefect, so he hurried on his way.

A lot of students went and did that sort of thing at least once in awhile. Harry knew the mechanics from one of Sirius' many talks, and he'd been curious about girls ever since he'd first heard Elan Malfoy talk about kissing Jamie Davis. Nobody he knew was bragging about sex, though from the many stories Sirius told, they probably were just not talking about it.

As a fifth year, Harry himself was considered an older student. That didn't mean, Sirius had cautioned him, that he had to go out and start shagging anything that moved. All it meant, he had continued, was that he was of an age where the occasional roll in the hay happened for those who felt it was right for them. If it happened for Harry, terrific. If not, then it would happen later, when it was time.

Was that couple behind the door in love? Harry hoped so, even if it was for a very short period of time. Feelings came and went, hearts could be broken and mended, but Harry had learned from the adults in his life that physical intimacy was cheap and meaningless without love.

Harry didn't know much about love and girls firsthand. He'd snogged a bit with Padma, nothing more than some kissing and cuddling. He'd never taken her anywhere with the intention of more.

He'd lost track of how many of his female friends had kissed him and was downright astounded. He liked all of them, each in her own way. It was impossibly hard to decide on just one to ask out.

What criteria should he use? If he'd met the love of his life, wouldn't he know it by now? So was this a question of how to fill time? Because he didn't want to hurt any of his friends by leading them on. Or did he even know what true love would feel like and needed to experiment in order to discover it?

Going for the prettiest one like Sirius had advised hadn't worked, but that plan had never been about finding love, only about apporting one's self with style. Padma certainly had fulfilled that and more. They'd looked stunning together at the Yule Ball.

His friendship with Tracy was starting to recover from her crush on him. She could be around him now and not be wistful and sappy. It was good to have her back. He'd missed her brain during the Triwizard Tournament. Harry hadn't wanted to risk the closest thing he'd ever had to a sister by getting romantic with her, but she'd been stubborn. Now it seemed she was coming around, and Harry couldn't be happier for her good timing. He knew he was going to need her in the fight against Voldemort.

Harry jumped up and perched in a window. The moon was very large tonight. According to Professor Sinistra, it was an atmospheric illusion and had absolutely no effect on magic. The position of the moon could, of course, and any magicks performed under the full light would be amplified. Certain other phases affected specific branches of magic for reasons that still made his head hurt with the maths of it all, but the full moon graced all. Conversely, nearly all magic was weakened during the new moon. Nearly. Certain Dark rituals required the cover of complete darkness.

How many of those Dark rituals had Voldemort performed in order to become so powerful? Yet Harry supposedly was equal to him and had a power he did not. The thought was a little frightening. Everyone did seem to have a comment or two about how Harry exceeded their expectations. He knew a great many charms and spells that most wizards his age did not. Granted he had been in need of such teachings. The hand of prophecy at play, perhaps?

He was exercising one of his many powers at this very moment. The Animagus Transfiguration was one of the most complicated bits of magic ever, and Harry had mastered it. He jumped down from the window and ran off up the hall.

Harry turned the corner and lurched to a halt. His hackles went up, his tail went bushy, and he held back a warning chitter. It was Mrs. Norris, the dust-coloured mop of a cat owned by the Squib caretaker Filch.

Mrs. Norris reared back. Harry knew she would be confused, having never encountered a mongoose before, and who knew how well the old fleabag reacted to new situations? She hissed sharply, and one paw reared back ready to strike, claws fully extended.

Harry kept himself low and tensed. He hadn't planned on this. He didn't really want to get into a fight, but he couldn't change back into a human, or she'd fetch Filch.

With a yowl, she tried to claw at him. Faster than a flash, he jumped back out of the way and then forward immediately. He bit at her face, trying to intimidate more than injure. His teeth clacked together in front of her, and he backed off just as she clawed at him again.

"Ick-ick-ick!" Harry chittered.

Mrs. Norris growled warily, but she did not move forward. Harry advanced one step, and the growls went up in pitch. He jumped out of the way again as she tried to scratch his eyes out.

This was really getting to be not fun at all. Harry dashed away from Mrs. Norris so quickly that she didn't spring after him for a couple of seconds. That headstart enabled him to get down the corridor and up the stairs in the entrance hall. He jumped on to a moving staircase and turned back in triumph to the fuming Mrs. Norris, who continued to hiss and spit at him. When the grinding stone came to a halt, she turned back up the corridor. Harry knew he'd be playing tag with her all night. He wondered if he'd run into Filch.

Harry decided to give the castle a rest and pattered down to the dungeons. There was plenty of space to run around down here. He ran from the stairs to the Potions classroom to the dorm back to the stairs and around and around. He curled up in front of the Potions lab to rest.

He was a bit tired, but there was no way he was going to change back to a boy a moment sooner than he had to. He'd had a blast running around the castle, but all the wonderous variety of new and interesting odors was not enough to distract him from one simple realization. He missed Moony and Padfoot. The smell of the great dog, the scent of the crazed wolf, a smidge of madness on the musk were as familiar to him as his own.

Even after being together only twice during the summer, it still mattered tremendously to Harry that he'd been accepted into the little Marauders club. Though he still lacked a name, he felt like one of them. He felt closer to them, and through them his dad. Harry wished deep down in his heart of hearts that Voldemort had never happened and his parents could have raised him. Then Prongs would be running with them too. If there was no Voldemort, there might even be Wormtail too.

But he missed Moony and Padfoot.


	11. Yes, My Captain!

**Chapter Eleven - Yes, My Captain!**

On Monday morning, Professor Snape passed the word that all the Slytherin prefects were to report to him in his office before dinner. Six people made a cramped fit in the small room.

"Thank you for coming. I won't keep you long. I know the first prefect meeting is after dinner, and I will give you the same admonishment I give all prefects every year. You are representatives of our noble and glorious house. Remember your image. Accord yourselves with dignity and decorum. With the return of the Dark times, there will be many who wish to impune us by association. Do not let them."

"We won't, sir," Bletchley promised.

"Good. Dismissed. Dinner awaits."

Up in the Great Hall, Harry and Pansy sat with Draco and Daphne who had saved them seats. He took a large helping of roast chicken.

"What did Snape want?" Draco asked.

"Just some prefect stuff. He wanted to make sure we remember to protect the interests of the house."

"Ah hah. Well, you'll do that anyway."

"He's just being diligent."

"He's a good Head of House. So anyway, you were going to show me about Vanishing those mice. How do you manage to get all this Transfiguration junk on the first try?"

"It's easy, Draco. I'll find you after the prefects meeting."

After dinner, Harry, Pansy, David, Sam, Heather, and Miles lingered at the table as the rest of the house descended to the dungeons. The Slytherin prefects headed up to the third floor and opened a door that never opened. Harry had thought it was an ordinary wall just pretending. He frowned in confusion. This wasn't the same room he'd seen once in third year.

But yet it was. The lavish, ornate design of the room seemed very royal. It was done in shades of purple. Up towards the ceiling, the walls were decorated with small, silver-framed portraits of all the prefects that had come before, with large gold ones to indicate a Head Boy or Girl.

Old-fashioned carved wood was the primary material of the room. Shelves around the walls were filled with hundreds of leather-bound books. These were shiny and new, unlike the dusty tomes in the library.

There were two tiers of seats, almost like Quidditch stands. Each side was decorated with banners and bunting in the house colours. Thick arm chairs, three to a tier, looked more like thrones with big footstools to make sure the prefects were comfortable.

At one corner of the ground level were two chairs and a table for the Head Boy and Girl. They had a gavel. Cedric Diggory and Alicia Spinnet were already hard at work as the Slytherins arrived.

The Hufflepuffs were right on their heels. They took the seats on Slytherin's left. The Gryffindors arrived next and sat on the benches opposite Slytherin. The Ravenclaws were the last to enter and went to their designated place.

Padma glared daggers at Harry as she swept past him. She turned to Goldstein, laughed at something he said, and laid a hand on his arm. Harry felt his stomach drop. Already? A month and a week or so had passed since he had broken up with Padma. Five weeks. They'd been together for seven months. Harry realized it was actually quite some time. Was it time for him to move on as well?

Diggory banged his gavel three times. "This first official meeting of the Hogwarts prefect council is hereby called to order, Head Boy Cedric Diggory and Head Girl Alicia Spinnet presiding. Let the record show that all prefects are present."

"So noted," Alicia said, setting up a charmed quill to take the minutes.

"Good. First on the agenda: use of magic in the halls. This is a regular complaint from Mister Filch, who has already had to clean up the evidence of unauthorized duels and spellwork. I expect you all to keep magic out of the corridors. I especially mean the Slytherins and the Gryffindors."

"I object to that remark," Bletchley said, rising to his feet.

"The chair recognizes the prefect from Slytherin," Spinnet said.

"The Head Boy's editorial remark is made without proper introduction of evidence. He has brought no numbers, no figures to support his claim that more than fifty-one percent of class-to-class transitional magical altercations involve my house or your own, Head Girl, let alone both of them together. Furthermore, since I_have_ requested those numbers, I know that they do not support his outrageous claim. I demand that the Head Boy's comment be stricken from the record and that he be made to apologize for his thoughtless and unsubstantiated generalization."

"I second that," all of the upper year Slytherins said together.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, you all know it's true!" said Lee Jordan of Gryffindor.

"The chair does not recognize the gentleman from Gryffindor," Diggory said, trying desperately to keep things from disintegrating further. "If the gentleman from Slytherin will agree to table his motion until such evidence can be obtained from Mister Filch-"

"Tell old Filch we want him to fill out his paperwork better!" Bletchley retorted. "Check the figures, please, before you go creating rumours with your editorials."

"Are you quite through, Miles?"

"You're the one who wanted order. I've been entirely procedural about this. If we really are all equals in here, then I don't think it's right that any house's good name is impuned without evidence. It was bad enough before the world all went to hell, but now things are real. There are real consequences. If you can't substantiate your claims, innocent people could get hurt. I will not see any of you bring harm to the children in my great house. Evidence, mate. I want evidence. Is not one of the common rights of an Englishman that of being innocent until proven guilty?"

"All right, that's enough, Miles," Diggory said, banging his gavel. "No more grandstanding."

"Grandstanding?" Miles even managed to sound outraged. "Standing up for my rights is now somehow inappropriate?"

"You are no longer recognized," Diggory said. "You made your point. I'm sorry you can't take a little pointed criticism. Magic in the corridors between classes is against the rules, and _all_ students are expected to follow it. There are going to be plenty of appropriate venues to work on spellwork this year. The Charms Club is actively recruiting. I hear they're going to have a guest come in from the Experimental Committee."

"Plus there's Professor Umbridge's new Duelling Club," Spinnet added. "I was talking with her today about it, and she's going to be bringing in some Aurors as guest instructors."

That was interesting news. Honestly, it was welcome news as well. Harry thought Professor Umbridge seemed a bit too, well, nice to be a Defence teacher. He couldn't imagine her drawing a wand on anyone. He'd sort of assumed that she would be really good on the theory to get them the best grounding in making the spell work and then letting them do it while not actually doing it herself.

"Seek the floor," said Roger Davies, seventh-year from Ravenclaw.

"Granted," said Diggory.

"Am I the only one in this council who is concerned about what Professor Umbridge has proposed for the NEWT-level Defence course? It's the bleeding Auror first year curriculum! We're being trained for war! They want to make soldiers out of us! They want us to march off and get killed! Is every single student at this school going to duel with Death Eaters?"

"Yes!" Harry said suddenly. "Seek the floor?"

"The chair recognizes the gentleman from Slytherin."

Harry got to his feet. He felt a bit nervous; he hadn't intended to speak up at his first meeting, but sometimes you didn't get to make your choices.

"What is the purpose of school? To educate children, to train them, to impart to them the knowledge and skills that they will need in order to survive in the real world once they finish school and leave home. Well guess what? The real world is a pretty scary bloody place right now. There are Muggleborns being attacked everywhere. Some of those families have kids in school right now! They know the score, and anyone else who doesn't isn't paying attention. Unless you're a doubter, Davies. You don't think the Ministry is making it all up, do you?"

"That's a loaded question, and I'm not answering it."

"Refusing to answer the question means he's scared of one of the answers," Pansy said. "Since the only right answer is 'No, the Ministry is telling the truth about Voldemort being back,' he's afraid of speaking the other answer, 'Yes, the Ministry is lying about Voldemort being back.' So you think the Ministry is lying, do you, Davies?"

"Stop putting words in my mouth!" The seventh-year prefect was very irritated. Not being chosen Head Boy would do that to a person. He'd been barely civil to anyone, least of all Diggory.

"Cedric, are you going to let that go on?" Spinnet asked. "Parkinson is out of order."

"Roger started it," Diggory said fairly. "If he can't defend himself against a couple of mouthy fifth-years, maybe we should ask Professor Flitwick to appoint a new prefect. Potter has a point."

"Stuff it, Diggory," Davies snapped, "and shut up, Parkinson. All I said was that I think Professor Umbridge may be a bit extreme in her teaching methods. I recognize that the Dark Lord has returned, but that's no excuse for turning Hogwarts into a boot camp. We can't all be soldiers, you know. Some of us have to plan and strategize."

"Yes, and we're called Slytherins," Miles Bletchley said loudly.

The whole council erupted in laughter, some of it a bit nervous, all of it noisy. Davies scowled darkly. He stood there seething until everyone calmed down.

"If I may continue?" he asked icily.

"No," Diggory said. "I've heard enough. I'm doing the same things in class as you are, Davies, and I don't find that we're being unduly pushed. Has the curriculum changed? You bet it has. Is it unreasonable given what's going on out there? Not a chance. Professor Umbridge has the full backing of the Headmaster and the board of governors. Those are the adults entrusted with securing our education and protection, and this is the course they have chosen. Now, when she starts having us cast Unforgiveables on each other, then I will find arguments that she's gone crackers a little more credible, but not before. Is that clear?"

There was a murmur of assent from the council.

"Good," Spinnet said, her tone clearly indicating that it was settled. "Next item, the first Hogsmeade weekend. For reasons of security, the students will not be told until the morning of at breakfast. Don't make too many plans for that weekend. Dumbledore wants us to be ready to get everyone back to the castle in a hurry if there's trouble. As Professor Moody once told us, 'Constant vigilance'. We're to be ready to hold off Death Eaters if we have to until the teachers arrive."

"What?" Bletchley demanded. "Can no one be spared to guard the next generation for a weekend?"

"Bletchley, shut up! You are argumentative and out of order. We are prefects, and it is our job to protect our students."

"It's the Headmaster's responsibility to protect the students."

"We assist in that. Got it?"

"I'm more prepared to be the _last_ line of defence, not the first, if you know what I'm saying. I'm not scared to go down fighting to protect my kids, but do I really have to volunteer to be the first guy?"

"It's the best we can do, Bletchley. They're worried about decoy attacks too."

Bletchley snorted. "Protect all the important places then. Whatever. Carry on." He sat.

"_Thank_ you!" Diggory said with exasperation. "Third item:"

On it went, covering any number of small, minute complaints. Students were to be kept out of the Astronomy tower after curfew except for class purposes. The list of banned items was distributed. Patrol schedules were handed out. Harry despaired that this torment might never be over. Finally Diggory started wrapping up.

"Does anyone have anything to bring before the council?"

Nobody did. It was only a week into term, after all. One of the Ravenclaws motioned to adjourn, and was seconded. After a quick voice vote, the meeting ended with the bang of the gavel. Everyone got to their feet and began to shuffle for the door.

A flash of bright blonde hair caught his eye. Hannah Abbott looked over just as he was looking up. Their eyes locked, and she giggled nervously. She smiled at Harry as she walked out of the meeting room. It was a pleasure to watch her leave. She wore a cinched-in robe that did nothing to hide her figure. She'd always been pretty, but now she was sultry.

Harry and Pansy were by themselves as they walked through the corridors back down to the Slytherin common room. Sam Warrington and David Palce had taken a different and more roundabout route. Heather Chandler and the seventh year prefect from Ravenclaw headed to the library to work on Ancient Runes together. Bletchley had stayed to talk Quidditch with Diggory and Spinnet.

"Say, Pansy."

"Yes, Harry?"

"I think Hannah Abbott has a crush on me."

"Ooh, really?" Pansy asked, very interested now. "Do tell."

"Well, just now she giggled and smiled at me."

"Very perceptive, Harry. I've taught you well. Now, what else is there? I know you had a couple of dates last summer."

"I went swimming at her house, but it's not really a date. Susan was there."

"Then you and Draco went out on a boat with them both," Pansy remembered, not sounding terribly pleased with the recollection.

"Yes, there was that, but then the whole Goblet of Fire nonsense happened. We haven't really talked in a long time."

"Well, Hannah loves Herbology. It's her favourite subject. She likes bright colours, which explains her predilection for yellow even when she's not at school. She likes horses, unicorns, pegasi, and so on. That may include centaurs, but we're not sure. She loves swimming and knows how to dive quite well. She hadn't gone out with anybody before she went to the Yule Ball with Justin Finch-Fletchley. She didn't kiss him, and she hasn't gone out with him, or with anybody else, since."

Pansy rattled off Hannah's biography with a preciseness that scared Harry somewhat. Her depth of knowledge about her fellow students was astounding. She was one of the many cogs in the Hogwarts gossip mill, one of the big ones.

"How was it when you were over her house?" Pansy asked. "I bet anything Bones was just there for courage and it really was a date for you and Hannah."

"Weren't you the one telling me I'd asked out Susan?"

"Yes, but you did. She eventually got over that bit about stealing Hufflepuff's glory, right? She's not as tall as she looks because her shoes have really thick soles. Her favorite color is brown. She aced the Charms final last year. She went to the Yule Ball with Ernie MacMillan-"

"Pansy, enough," Harry begged. "I think I should just try one, don't you think?"

"Just trying to help, Harry. Hannah's favourite drink is butterbeer, so maybe you can spend some time with her in the Three Broomsticks."

"Well that sounds good," Harry said, feeling glad that he finally had a plan. "Now to ask her."

"Let it happen naturally. Don't force it. You get too nervous."

"Girls make me nervous."

"As we should, Harry. As we should."

* * *

Harry's first prefect patrol was scheduled for Thursday night. He was to take his first rounds with an older prefect who could show him the ropes. He found himself with David Palce, a relatively soft-spoken boy who immediately put Harry at ease.

"There's nothing to this patrolling bit. The castle is divided up according to house. Being Slytherin, our designated area is the dungeons. Anything on the ground floor and lower is our domain. Of course, you can swap with any prefect, so you may need to go through other areas. Hufflepuff has the first and second floors, Gryffindor has the third and fourth floors and the battlements, and Ravenclaw has the top three floors and the towers."

"I see."

"It's a simple matter of walking down every corridor, listening for noises that will betray people out after curfew. Mostly it's students from different houses getting together to snog. Rarely you'll find the couple that doesn't want the rest of their house to know. That's always good for some blackmail leverage. Last year I caught Angelina Johnson and George Weasley in the unused classroom near the way out to the greenhouses. I got quite an eyeful, let me tell you. Johnson's very curvy."

Harry grinned. "What'd your silence cost them?"

"Weasley tried to bluff his way out, but Johnson clamped a hand over his mouth and told me she'd do my history essay. I wasn't about to turn her down."

"Did she get a good mark?"

"Actually, yes."

They exited the Slytherin common room and made their way down towards the Potions classrooms.

Harry opened the first door and peered inside. He placed his hand on the stone circle near the door, causing the torches to flare to life.

"Nothing here."

"You've got to do more than that, Potter," Palce said. "Go check down the rows and make sure there's nobody hiding down front."

Harry did so, looking carefully under each bench and behind the desk at the front.

"Still nothing here."

"Very well. Next room."

It was more of the same, and Harry soon grew quite bored with the tedium of it. He and David chatted away anything and everything in order to pass the time.

"So how about the British Cup this year? Harry asked. "Think Montrose can do it again?"

"Do you think they'll even have a Cup? What with the war on and all?" David asked.

"I hope so," Harry replied. The very thought had never occured to him. It had been bad enough when Quidditch was cancelled for the Triwizard Tournament. "Bollocks, that would be awful."

"Did you hear that?" David said suddenly.

Harry's hand flashed to his wand. "Where?"

"It sounded like a moan. We have a couple out of bounds. This should be fun."

David cast a Silencing Charm on his feet and gestured to Harry to do the same. Then he spoke a spell Harry hadn't heard of.

"_Extrauditorious!_"

The previously quiet noise of the castle now roared in his ears. Every sound was amplified. He could hear bugs crawling around in the deep cracks of the stone floor, water running through pipes behind the walls, and the echoes of owls hooting in the night. He could also quite clearly hear two people breathing heavily.

"What is this spell?" he whispered. His voice sounded no louder to his own ears.

"Hearing Amplification Charm. We'll follow the sound of that noise until we find them."

"Why is my voice normal? How come I don't hear my heart beating or my own breathing? Or yours for that matter?"

David shrugged. "Snape didn't tell me. I imagine the creator of the spell worked around it."

"Snape taught you this spell?"

"Yeah. He'll be calling you into his office in a few days or so to show you. You'd better be prepared. Bletchley showed me, and now I show you."

"Thanks, David."

"No problem, Harry. Now, about those two."

David led the way to the last classroom in the corridor. This one was never used anymore, and it had become a supply room of miscellaneous equipment. Both David and Harry put their ears up to the door. There was giggling going on in there. David canceled the Charm.

"Open the door real slowly. We'll try to catch them in the act, so be very quiet."

"Door's locked," Harry said, turning the handle gently.

"Damned unlock spell makes too much light. Someone should make a stealthier version."

"I'll get right on that."

"Okay, here we go. We charge in. I'll get the front. You cover the rear. _Alohamora!_"

Whire light flared from David's wand into the keyhole. The mechanism opened with a click. The door swung open on squeaky hinges. Harry jumped through the door brandishing his wand. He looked quickly down the rows of seats. He saw nothing but dusty cauldrons.

"Gotcha!" David shouted from the front of the room.

A girl screamed, and Harry ran down just in time to see her pulling her shirt closed. He got a tantalizing glimpse of breast and wished he'd been faster.

"Well, well, well, Connie Rookwood," David said pleasantly, "and Cormac McClaggan, what a surprise."

"Sod off, Palce!" the boy ordered.

"Five points from Gryffindor for being discourteous to a prefect," David said instead. "Ten for being out of bounds, I'd say. Get back to your tower."

"Come on, Connie."

"Oh no, I'm not done with Miss Rookwood quite yet. Get along McClaggan. This is prefect business."

McClaggan glared, but there really was nothing he could do. He slouched off, buttoning his shirt as he went.

Connie Rookwood was a tall girl with very pale blonde hair. Her robe was currently thrown over a chair, and she was hastily buttoning her shirt before she could show them anymore than she already had.

David pointed his wand and levitated a slinky bit of lace.

"Is this his or yours?"

"Oooh!" Connie fumed, snatching it out of the air and stuffing it in the pocket of her robes, which she donned with a flourish. She began fastening that up as well.

"Oh, what to do with you," David said speculatively. "I can't take points from you, as you are also a prefect. Same for detention. So why should I not turn you in to Professor Snape?"

Connie frowned for a second, but she appeared thoughtful, not angry. When she spoke, her voice was much calmer.

"David, I know you're a reasonable person. Surely there's no need to involve Professor Snape. We can resolve this between ourselves."

"I'm game."

"I may be in Ravenclaw, but my family has branches in Slytherin as well. How about a pass based on good associations?"

"Clever. Keep talking."

"Well, I heard you complaining about our Transfiguration assignment yesterday. I could help you with it."

"I already finished it. Sam talked me through it."

"Ah." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Are you and Sam dating or what? None of us can get a straight answer out of her."

"Stop trying to change the subject."

"That's a yes."

"No, it's not! No, we're not. Okay? By Merlin's flowing robes, we're just friends."

Connie looked over at Harry. "Potter, take a walk. I want to talk to David in private."

Harry looked at David. He was eyeing Connie cautiously. "About what?" he asked.

"None of his business, that's what. Come on. What are you so scared of? You've got me at wandpoint."

"Harry, leave the door open."

"Sure thing, David."

Harry walked outside the classroom and leaned against the opposite wall. He was out of hearing range, but he could still see the pair.

Out of sudden curiosity, he drew his wand.

"_Extrauditorious!_"

The distant sounds of the castle were now as though they were right next to him. He could hear the conversation loud and clear.

"What do you want, Connie? What the hell are you doing down here? You know this is my night for patrol. Are you trying to get caught?"

"What do you want, David?" she retorted. "Cormac is a Quidditch-playing moron. He's entertaining enough for a good snog, but he's nothing compared to you. I've been dropping hints around you for two years now, and you've been completely oblivious. Don't you like me, David? Because I think you're just about the dreamiest boy I've ever laid eyes on, and I want to do to you all of those things I was just practicing and maybe more."

David stood there dumbfounded.

"Well?" she said expectantly. "Are you going to say anything after I just poured my heart out to you?"

"Are you crackers? To think that you can give me a good snog and get off scot free? You must be out of your head. I'm a Slytherin, Connie. We didn't invent clever lies and deceptions; we perfected them. Do you want to try again?"

"Oooh!" Connie growled, giving up on her plot.

"You can't trick a Slytherin. Now march. I'm sure you know the way to Professor Snape's office."

David held Connie at wandpoint all down the corridor and around the corner to a plain wooden door. Harry knocked twice, using the special prefix to announce that he was a Slytherin who was not alone.

Professor Snape came to the door and opened it with a rush of air.

"What is it? Potter? Palce? What the devil is going here?"

"We were on patrol, sir. We heard a noise and investigated. We found Miss Rookwood in a compromising situation with Cormac McClaggan, who has already been dealt with."

"I see. Mister Potter, you confirm his story?"

"I do, sir."

"Miss Rookwood, you are out of bounds. Ten points from Ravenclaw."

"There are more charges, sir. Attempted bribery. Miss Rookwood offered to do my homework if I wouldn't turn her into you. When I refused that, she offered me her body."

Snape gave Connie a withering look. "Miss Rookwood, how disappointing."

"It's not like that!" she protested. "I didn't offer to sleep with him! As if I would! How dare you cast that slur on me?"

"Says the girl caught with her shirt off in an unused classroom."

"That will do, Mister Palce. You may go. I will deal with Miss Rookwood."

Harry and David left the office and continued on their patrol.

"Well, that was fun," Harry said.

"Oh yes."

"You didn't try to get a snog out of her? Could've done that and then turned her in."

"Thought about it. Decided I didn't want to take the chance that Sam's waiting up for me in the common room."

"So you two are dating."

"I didn't say that."

* * *

The Slytherin Quidditch team was old.

Harry couldn't really believe that after five years of playing Quidditch with Adrian Pucey, Desmond Montague, Charles Warrington the Third, and Captain Miles Bletchley, when this season ended, they would all finish school, leaving Harry alone with whatever rookies they picked up this year to replace Ivan Bole and Matthew Derrick, the Beaters who had been denied a final season of Quidditch thanks to the Triwizard Tournament. It was doubtless because of this impending vacuum that Bletchley had asked Harry to meet with him privately before the first practice.

Harry knocked on the seventh years' door. "Bletchley? You were looking for me?"

"Ah, Harry, come in." The seventh year dorm was a mild disaster area. Clothes were always hung neatly in the wardrobes of course, but everything else in the world seemed to litter the floor.

"Nice place, mate."

"Chasers are slobs," Bletchley growled. "I've said everything I can say about it. In a few more months, it won't be my problem anymore."

"So what's up?"

"You're going to be the last team veteran next year."

"Unless one of you lot gets left back."

"No chance of that. So I know it's a certainty that Snape will make you Quidditch captain. Unless we find an undiscovered future pro to be one of the Beaters at trials - and I don't think that likely - you're it."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"Looking forward to it?"

"A bit."

"Nervous?"

"A bit."

"Yeah, you should be, but Flint and I have trained you well. You're a damned good Quidditch player, Potter. This year, I'll teach you how to be a leader."

Bletchley picked up a very battered leather-bound book. The Slytherin house crest was embossed on the cover, along with a faded representation of the Quidditch Cup.

"This is the play book," he said simply. "Flint gave it to me, and now I give it to you."

The play book! The Slytherin Quidditch manual was one of the most closely guarded possessions at Hogwarts (next to the Gryffindor Quidditch manual, the Ravenclaw Quidditch manual, and the Hufflepuff Quidditch manual, to be sure!) It was a priceless trove of knowledge, filled with descriptions of plays, moves, feints, tricks, and tactics. It was the culmination of decades of Slytherin cunning, and only the captain was allowed to read it.

Harry felt very awed as he slowly took the book from Bletchley. It was quite the sensation to know that in one short year Harry would wear the Captain's badge pinned to his robes. Bletchley was right: there were no other possibilities. It was as foregone as if they gave him the badge today. All the responsibility of keeping the grand Slytherin Quidditch tradition alive would rest on his shoulders.

"I don't know what to say."

"Promise me you'll guard it with your life. Promise me you'll bring the Cup home again next season."

"I promise."

"Good. Now let's get down to the pitch."

Harry stowed the manual in the third compartment of his trunk for safe-keeping. It felt strange to walk side by side with the Quidditch Captain as almost an equal. He was heir to the Slytherin tradition. He found himself standing a little taller, a little prouder.

This being the day of trials, the common room was pretty empty as he and Bletchley headed up. Heather Chandler was frantically scribbling away at some assignment or other. She didn't look up when Bletchley greeted her.

"Have fun at practice," she said. "I can't go watch. Stupid Pucey disintegrated my Transfiguration homework which is due Monday and took me all week to do."

"Ouch," Bletchley winced. "Old McGonagall will crucify you."

"I know that," she said in a stretched nerve, sing-songy tone. "Now go away."

They exited the common room into the dungeons. Quickly navigating their way to the surface, they made their way down to the pitch. Bletchley said little on the trip. He was doubtless thinking of strategy and tactics. Harry respected the silence. He even matched pace with the Captain so that the rhythm of their footfalls would be in sync and not provide disturbing patterns.

As they came within sight of the stadium, Bletchley finally spoke. "Potter, as your first training exercise in being captain, I want you to run trials."

"Bletchley, you're kidding." Harry was incredulous. What a horrible surprise to spring on him. What was Bletchley trying to do to him? "Do I get to hold the almighty clipboard?"

"Keep laughing, Potter. You might have to take over at any moment. The lads are good at the game, but they only know their part. They can't see the art and beauty of all the parts together. I think you can, and if I fall, you're going to have to step up.

Ah, so he was trying to test Harry's mettle under fire. Well, that wouldn't be hard. What was a little Quidditch trial compared to facing a dragon on a broom? "Because I've never had to perform under pressure," Harry replied, drawling slightly.

"Shut up, Potter. I'm deadly serious. If you lose the Quidditch Cup for Slytherin, I'll get Flint and all the other captains to thrash you."

"But not you?"

"Shut _up_, Potter," Bletchley said once more as they stepped on to the pitch, "and get the Seekers in the sky."

"Seekers over here now!" Harry bawled to the crowd.

Four people stepped forward: Laine, Arcen, Jeremiah representing fourth year, and a third year, Christine Higgs. Her older brother Terence had been reserve Seeker before Harry joined the team, just getting ready to step into the limelight. Harry had outflown him at trials as a first year, and Higgs had never gotten over his humiliation. From the hard look Christine was directing his way, Harry had a feeling that she intended to take his spot from him if she could.

"Now then, while the trial is going on, we are all going to be hunting for this." Harry took the snitch out of his pocket and held it up for all to see. He released it, and it hovered in the air for a moment before attempting to zoom away.

Harry's hand shot out and snatched the golden ball as it tried to escape. He let it go and caught it with the left hand. Twice more he let it try to get away and snatched it out of the air with flair. The four potentials watched his hands blur in the air. He regularly did this with a practice snitch. Now he was showing off and using the real thing.

"If you can get to it before me," and from Harry's tone of voice, he didn't think that very likely at all, "then you become starting Seeker. If you're the first of you lot to catch it, you become reserve Seeker, and I fly you into the ground every practice. Any questions?"

"Are there rules?" Arcen asked.

"Normal Slytherin Quidditch rules apply."

There were no more questions.

"Good. Start warming up. Chasers!"

Harry lined them up and had them count off by threes. There was a great deal of rearranging in the line so that friends who had practiced together would try out together. Every triplet was a team, and they had to fly against Warrington the Third, Pucey, and Montague. The veteran Chasers weren't out to score, just for distance and damage. Bletchley kept himself on the ground while the various Keeper wanna-bes took turns against the progressive Chaser teams.

The Beaters' trial was a bit more challenging. Bole and Derrick were gone. Without a starting player to topple, it was anybody's for the taking. Consequently, Harry had more candidates for this position than any other. He considered carefully how he should test them.

"Beaters, pair off by twos," he ordered. "Last team still flying gets the spots. If one of you is eliminated, you're both out."

"Nice strategy, Potter," Bletchley muttered appreciatively. "Survival of the fittest."

"It gives us Beaters who can pack a punch and take a hit. I thought of it from Bole and Derrick's performance during trials my first year."

"Good memory."

By this point, the Seeker hopefuls had finished their warm-up laps. Harry handed the snitch to Bletchley.

"Don't lose, Potter."

"I'll be back on the ground before you've called on the next Chaser group."

Harry kicked off, rocketing into the air on his Firebolt. This was a formality as far as he was concerned. Nobody would be able to find or catch the snitch before him.

Bletchley shouted, "Loose!" and flung the snitch into the sky. It vanished.

Harry flew up to a high vantage point. The snitch was easiest to see from above.

Arcen and Higgs both tried to fake each other out. Jeremiah got tricked by somebody's watch. Laine was flying near Harry, but not close enough to be marking him. Marking would have been useless, because once Harry saw the snitch, there would be no way she could catch him on that Cleansweep 10.

Laine dove suddenly. Harry didn't take the bait, but then he squinted along her line of flight. It was quite a ways in front of her, but it was definitely the snitch!

Biting back a curse for being caught flying the wrong direction, Harry turned on the speed. He quickly caught up with Laine and began to creep past her. The snitch was right there, waiting for him to grab.

The hand on his bum nearly made him jump off his broom. He glanced down and saw the determined look on her face. She squeezed, making shivers run up his spine, and she began to inch ahead of him.

Harry couldn't let her distract him. He twisted, pulling his derrier out of her reach. He flattened himself out as much as possible and zoomed forward to wrap his fingers around the snitch. He zoomed down to the ground where Bletchley was smirking broadly at him.

"Crazy dame really understands Slytherin Quidditch rules," Bletchley commented blandly.

Harry flushed, but he replied, "There are no rules. I got the snitch, didn't I?"

"That you did. Now figure out who your backup is going to be."

"Loose!" Harry shouted, letting the snitch go. "Any thoughts on Chasers?"

"Not really. I already had my mind made up. Nobody's better than those three."

"I figured as much."

"Beaters, now, that's more tricky. I'm inclined to go for brute strength and pick your friends Crabbe and Goyle. Flint had his eye on them, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I was going to remind you of that."

"Sounds like we're in agreement then. Good. Now get to work, and let me get through the rest of this parade."

Set by set, the hopeful Chasers and Keepers went into the sky, being generally unimpressive until Draco and Millie kicked off. Harry couldn't see who their third person was. The Keeper who rose to guard the hoops against them was Theodore Nolan, a third year.

Nolan didn't stand a chance.

Harry's friends had been working together non-stop to tighten up their teamwork. Harry had attempted to take Theo's place in that group, but he was far more suited to being a Seeker. If it weren't for the years of experience that Pucey, Montague, and Warrington the Third had together, they would have easily been the best choices. As it was, the team members had quite a fight on their hands, made more even by virtue of the lads not wanting to injure themselves at the start of the season. The cobbing and the strong tactics were not entirely out of control.

"Yes!" came a frantic shriek from high in the sky. Harry turned to look and saw Laine holding up her fist in triumph. She had caught the snitch!

"Slater, front and centre! The rest of you lot can bugger off! Anyone who wants to can also have a go at the Chasers if you're still up for it."

The other Seeker hopefuls descended with dejected expressions, except for Christine Higgs whose gaze may have rivalled a basilisk for deadliness. She shouldered her broom and headed back towards the castle. Laine landed in front of Harry and dismounted. She held out the snitch proudly, and Harry took it from her.

"Well done."

"Thank you, Harry."

"You're the reserve Seeker, but Bletchley is grooming me to be Captain next year, and I'm going to show him I've got the right stuff. I will expect you to attend every practice, and I am going to fly you ragged."

"I look forward to it."

"You say that now."

"When's the first practice, Captain?" Laine grinned mischievously at him, making his stomach do a flip-flop.

"Captain Bletchley will decide and inform us."

"Yes, sir!"

"Any who failed as Seeker who want to try being Chaser get over to the hoops now!" Harry bawled.

The Beaters were being thinned out. Half of those who had gone into the sky had returned to the ground. Many were limping off the pitch. Just as Harry had expected, Crabbe and Goyle were the last men flying amongst the Beaters. Crabbe hit a Bludger at the other pair, who tried to go for a Bludger Backbeat. Crabbe avoided the mis-aimed ball easily, but Goyle had struck the other Bludger at the exact same moment, so the other pair hadn't heard the impact. The iron ball crashed into one boy, ricocheted off him and struck the other right in the stomach. The first boy fell off, while the second began spewing up his breakfast. Crabbe didn't even use a Bludger to unseat him, just yanked his broom out from under him.

"I want Crabbe, Goyle, Malfoy, Bulstrode, Slater, Slater, and Bulstrode to remain. Everyone else, head for the showers."

As those named clustered in the centre of the field, they were all congratulating each other. Bletchley finally called them to something resembling attention by bellowing, "Shut it!" at the top of his lungs.

"That's better. Now, then, practices are going to go a bit different this year because this is the last season for me, Montague, Pucey, and Warrington."

"The third."

"Shut it. We need to train you lot so that you can uphold the glory of Slytherin. We've had ten years of triumph in the Interhouse Quidditch Cup, and you'd better not be the team that bolloxes it up."

"You still have to lead us to victory one more time, Bletchley," Warrington contributed helpfully. "They might have to reclaim the Cup if we don't stay on top form."

"Then I hope you kept in shape over the summer," Bletchley retorted. "All Chasers in the sky now. Fifty laps at top speed. Report to me as you finish." They all stood there stunned. "Move it, move it!"

The six Chasers zoomed to the border of the pitch, already jinking and jostling for position. The team veterans were way out in front. Bletchley turned to Harry.

"Take Slater and teach her everything you know about Seeking," he ordered.

"Oh, I'll be able to make it for tea, then," Harry said cheekily. "Won't take long at all."

"Shut it, Potter. I know you'll still be Seeking for the next two years, but you nearly got eaten last year, and we didn't have a backup."

"Is that why this sudden determination to have a reserve? Because of a dragon? Bletchley, I flew circles around that lizard. He never laid a tooth on me."

"It looked pretty damn close from where I was sitting. All I could see was this year's Quidditch Cup slipping through my fingers. I will not be the one to lose it after ten years. Get her at least as good as you, or I'll- I'll- I'll do something! And you won't like it!"

The captain's face was turning red. Feeling slightly alarmed, Harry tried to calm him down. "Miles, mate, relax! Breathe. We're not going to lose the Cup. Our Chasers are still the best, and our Keeper is outstanding. None of the other Seekers is worth a sack of rat guts. Remember, this is Diggory's last year too. I don't even know who'll be trying for Gryffindor, but Chang is the best of the lot. I can train Laine to be better than all of them."

"You'd better! Now get airborne! I'll release the snitch in a minute." Bletchley turned and glared at Goyle and Crabbe, who withered. "Okay, boys, time for some pain."

"Excuse me, Captain Bletchley?" Lucas Slater spoke up. "What about me?"

"What?" Bletchley seemed momentarily confused. "Oh, right, the other Slater. Umm, get warmed up. You're going to be guarding the hoops against the Chasers. All of them."

Lucas' face paled, but he raised his chin. "Yes, sir!"

Harry turned to Laine. "Let's hit the sky."

They kicked off into the air. Harry led her up to the centre of the pitch about a hundred feet up. You could see everything on the field from up here.

Laine stayed hot on his twigs as he zoomed upwards. Her Cleansweep 10 was pretty zippy, and more than enough to beat any of the other Seekers.

"Oh wise one, I have sought you out that I might learn from your wisdom. Teach me the secrets of Slytherin's champions."

Harry laughed. "Well, we start with the little golden ball called a snitch."

"We have to catch it. Yes, this much I know."

"Just checking that we have the basics. You did pretty good during the trial. You must have been practicing over the summer. Do you have your own pitch at home?"

"Yes, and because the house is built the way it is, well, you'll just have to come see it some time. There's all the room to fly you could want. I couldn't leave the house this summer, so that's what I did. Then I figured if I was going to be flying so much anyway, I might as well train to go out for the team. I'm still rather surprised I actually made it."

"It was a good plan," Harry complimented. "I see the snitch. Let's go!"

Neck and neck they raced around the pitch. The snitch apparently wasn't in the mood for taking them on an obstacle course through the stands. It was content to dart to and fro all over the customary playing zone, giving them obstacles like Chasers and Bludgers to avoid.

Harry figured it was about time to show Laine a few of the nasty things Seekers could do to each other. She may have done some fancy flying, but catching the snitch wasn't just about that. He eased back from his top speed. She caught up with him.

He looked over at Laine and saw that she was straining to get closer to the snitch. She spared a glance in his direction. Harry winked at her and then flipped over on his broom, riding upside down underneath her.

"Harry!" she screamed. "What are you doing?!"

He grinned up at her without answering. In her attention to what he was doing, she lost focus on flying. It compensated for his being essentially hanging from his broom.

Keeping his right knee locked tight over the handle, Harry reached out with his left foot and put it at the base of Laine's tail-twigs. She noticed the sudden shift to her broom and looked back.

"What are you-? No!" she yelped as he shoved as hard as he could, sending her careening for the ground. They were pretty high up, but there still wasn't a lot of time to recover from any sudden shock to a broom.

Harry pulled up, letting the snitch flutter away. He wanted to see how quickly Laine could recover. She took longer than he would have liked, but she did manage to regain control.

"Nice move," she said sarcastically.

"It worked, didn't it? It's also legal."

"Right. Legal."

"The snitch is waiting for us."

As soon as they started chasing it again, the snitch began to fly away as fast as it could. Harry noticed that Laine was flying a lot faster than she'd been before. Harry bumped his broom against hers. She swore at him and corrected her position. He took one hand off and gave her a sharp elbow to the arm. She yelped and swerved off.

"You must learn control," Harry said. "Quidditch is a rough game. The other Seeker is going to be ruthless. Take him out first."

"Right."

The snitch had vanished, so they started looking for it again. Harry and Laine floated above the pitch, eyes peeled.

"Seeking is long moments of concentration interrupted by brief spurts of frantic flying and excitement. Once you begin to go after it, you'll have all the other team trying to foul you. Beaters will aim in your direction, and I once saw Fred Weasley 'mistake' Pucey for a Bludger."

"That can't be legal."

"If Madam Hooch doesn't see it, then it's legal. There! Do you see it?

"Where?"

Harry pointed to where the snitch was happily fluttering along the stands. She looked, following his finger.

"I can't see it."

"There," Harry said, "right by the banner."

They had become quite close as Harry tried to guide her line of sight to the snitch. She turned her head slightly, and suddenly her breath was tickling his ear.

"I'm going to learn a lot from you."

Harry felt blood rushing to his face. His skin was all tingly where her breath had touched his cheek, and he wished she would do it again. He turned his head to reply, and Laine leaned forward to meet him. Their lips touched, then lingered, then pulled back.

Fireworks were going off in Harry's head. Had that really just happened?

Laine watched him anxiously for a split second. Then she smiled at him, and his insides turned to custard.

The snitch chose that inopportune moment to buzz by them, and Laine zoomed off after it, leaving Harry trying to shake away the daze. Belatedly, he took off after her.

Harry was distracted for the rest of practice, and he was quiet as he showered and changed into clean clothing. He hung around the entrance to the locker room as the boys headed up to the Great Hall for dinner.

Just when he'd started to think that Laine might have gotten over her crush on him, she had to go and do something like snog him several hundred feet in the air. Harry felt himself getting dizzy all over again just remembering the feel of her soft lips.

He was also conflicted. He was already making signs of interest towards Hannah. She seemed to be receptive. To be fair, she was giving him big signs right back, ones with gigantic, multi-colour letters. What was he to do about that?

Harry forced himself to pause. He was getting far too ahead of himself. He needed to take this one step at a time. He should give Laine a fair chance. He hadn't really done more than exchange flirty glances with Hannah. He'd done that with a lot of girls, including her best friend Susan.

It wasn't unheard of for students to date outside their form. He liked Laine plenty, and apparently he liked to kiss her. As Sirius had told him, relationships weren't much more than that at this stage.

Harry cupped a hand to his face and checked his breath. It wasn't _too_ horrible, but could certainly do with some freshening. He tapped his wand to his tongue and teeth. This was a spell he'd learned in the book of household spells Sirius had recommended to him. The Freshening Charm could be adapted to many uses, and now Harry could taste nothing but spearmint.

"Harry!" Laine said with surprise as she emerged from the changing room. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you. I thought we might walk up to dinner together."

"Sure. I'd like that."

"Congratulations again on making the reserve squad. We'll get you trained up a bit, and you'll be more than ready to take on Gryffindor."

"What about Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff?"

"That's a bit trickier," Harry admitted. "Cho Chang is pretty good as a Seeker, and Diggory is better than her, but Diggory is done with school this year, and Chang will be done the year after."

"So I'll have one year after you leave school to be the best Seeker in Hogwarts, and that's it?"

Harry chuckled. "Yes, that's what I'm saying."

"Do you like me, Harry?"

Harry nearly stumbled. Laine had caught him completely off-guard with her direct question. A direct question deserved a straight answer.

"Yes, I do. I think you're fun, pretty, pleasant, and I know I can depend on you. What's not to like?"

"I like you too. I think you've known that, and I've tried to get over my crush. I think I am, for the most part, but I still like you. I think about you all the time. I wonder what you're doing. I even dream about you sometimes."

Laine instantly began to blush. "Oh drat. I didn't mean to say that."

Harry didn't know whether to be touched or worried by her unintended revelation. Perhaps a bit of both.

"Just what are we doing in these dreams of yours?" he asked teasingly.

"I don't believe I told you that," she rued.

"Come on," he wheedled. "If you don't tell me, I'll just start making stuff up."

Laine blushed even harder. "It's nothing like that. I dream that you asked me to the Yule Ball last year, or that I actually got up the courage to cut in a few times. Or that there'll be another ball this year, and you'll ask me. Silly, I suppose."

"Not at all. It would have been fun to dance with you. I certainly danced with everyone else. I'm sorry I didn't ask you for at least one."

"That's so sweet, Harry. Thank you. Next time, then."

"Sure."

Harry decided right then that he would ask Laine out to Hogsmeade as soon as Dumbledore made the announcement. There was no reason in the world why he shouldn't have a date with a girl who liked him.

Maybe he should even ask her before the news broke. He didn't know when the weekend would be, but it would give them something to look forward to. Or it could hang over their heads, he considered.

Harry realized that despite being older and wiser and talking to men he respected, he still did not understand how to cope with females.

"Would you like to go for a walk around the castle with me? I think I've got some time free next Thursday."

"OWL year already a cruncher, is it?" she asked sympathetically.

"Things haven't even gotten started yet," he predicted.

"Well we'd better fit in the fun time while we can," she said with a giggle. "Yes, Harry, I would like to take a long walk with you. Whenever you can find the time is fine with me. I understand how busy you are."

Harry felt a rush of gratitude. It felt weird having to schedule his recreation time, but that was what O.W.L. year meant.

"I'll let you know later in the week then."

"Sounds good."

They were at the front gate to the castle now, and Harry opened the smaller door to the side. He gestured for Laine to go first. She smiled at him as she passed by, and he felt his insides knot up.

"Are you going to join Umbridge's duelling club?" Harry asked, moving to a less flush-inducing topic of conversation.

"I don't know. Lucas is quite excited to sign up, but I don't know if I'd be any good at that sort of thing."

"We all need to be able to defend ourselves. What if the Death Eaters come for you because you're on my side?"

"I suppose I'd try to run away. Hide. Apparate. I'm going to try to get a job in the Ministry when I finish school. I'll be able to contribute to the war that way. I don't have the marks or the skills to make it as an Auror or a Healer."

"You're selling yourself short."

"It's nice of you to say so, Harry, but the professors say otherwise."

"Marks aren't everything."

"But they do matter a lot."

"I think you should join anyway. It never hurts to practice, and you can only get better, not worse."

"That's true. I wonder what my parents will think."

"They'll disapprove?"

"It's probably not ladylike."

* * *

The first meeting of the new duelling club was scheduled for Sunday afternoon in the Great Hall. There were a decent number of students present. Upper years were more prevalent than ickle firsties and second years. All the four houses were well-represented. There was a platform erected, but nothing resembling the highly decorative duelling stage Professor Lockhart had requisitioned for the one meeting of his own ill-fated club.

In a way, Harry reflected, he ought to thank Lockhart for his foolishness. If not for him, Harry might never have been told what his ability to speak to snakes really meant. Draco had conjured a snake in their demonstration, but the only real one Harry had ever seen was at the zoo, and who knew when he'd go visit the zoo with Draco or Pansy or Daphne? Honestly, there might be dozens or hundreds of wizards who could speak to snakes, but it was just that there weren't any snakes to talk to.

"Do you think I should get a pet snake?" Harry asked Draco.

"That could be fun, but I bet Regal would try to eat it."

"That's a shame."

"Why do you want a snake?"

"I don't really. Just thinking about the last time we had a Duelling Club. No conjuring snakes, okay?"

Draco smirked. "Of course, my man," he said pompously with a wave of his hand. "Only purely innocent hexes and curses will issue from my wand."

"Yeah, not that one you tried to use on Moody last year. You still haven't told us what it was."

"And I'm not going to."

Professor Umbridge climbed the stairs to the stage and cleared her throat.

"Hem, hem."

The audience grew quiet. Professor Umbridge had been quite intense in class. Everyone was eager to see how she would perform in an extra-curricular activity.

"Thank you all for coming to the first meeting of the Ministry Youth club. We are all here because we support the efforts of the Ministry to fight back against the threat posed by You-Know-Who."

Harry wondered at that. A lot of the people around him were looking at each other confusedly. They thought they were here to practice duelling.

Professor Umbridge continued. "We wish to become better, stronger witches and wizards than what we are." She gave a winsome sort of smile that was supposed to be endearing. "I will not hesitate to confess that my own duelling skills could use with a little polish."

Her admission drew a couple of chuckles from the students. She had mentioned the one word everyone cared about.

"We will work together, strive with one purpose here: to stand up and defy the Dark Lord and his agents. They would bind us in the chains of fear and misery, oppression and servitude. We will not go quietly! No, we will take as many of them with us as we can. We are free only so long as we refuse to let them win.

"The Dark times are here again, and we must be ready. You go out from Hogwarts into the world, and it is a dangerous place. The skills we will practice here may one day save your lives. Not just when you finish your seventh year, but when you are home for the holiday."

That got a reaction. Lots of people felt insulated from the war here at school. They felt safe. They worried about their families, but the notion of being there when something awful happened was clearly new to some of them.

Umbridge's voice grew more and more passionate as she went on. Her eyes got wide and wild.

"So enough! Enough with the talk! Pair off! First and foremost we will learn the Disarming Charm. An opponent without a wand is at a significant disadvantage! The spell is red, as are many hexes and curses. If your opponent tries to use a specific counter and doesn't get it right, the spell will be unimpeded. If your aim is true, he will be disarmed. The incantation is Expelliarmus, and the wand motion is thus! Go to it!"

Harry had perfected the Disarming Charm during his practice for the Tasks. He turned to Draco. "I'm not even bothering."

"Right, mate." Draco had also mastered a variety of spells helping Harry train for the Tasks.

Harry didn't understand why so many of the other students seemed to be plain bad at spellcasting. The Slytherins found hidden rooms in the dungeons and cast the spells over and over again until they got it right. They talked to the upper year students for tips and pointers. What was wrong with all these other houses that they didn't help each other? What was wrong that they didn't work hard at mastering the magic?

"They don't care about our heritage," Draco replied. "They're just muddling through."

Professor Umbridge moved through the crowd, watching, instructing, and taking notes on her clipboard. Her eyes fell on Harry, who was leaning against the wall with Draco, Millie, and Daphne. Pansy, always miserable at Charms, was in need of yet more practice.

"Mister Potter, you are not participating."

"No, ma'am."

"May I ask why not?"

"I've already got this one down pat, thanks. I'm pretty good at duelling, actually. This basic stuff isn't what I need."

"Where did you get so good, Mister Potter?"

"Last year there was this little event called the Triwizard Tournament. You may have heard about it. I was one of the Champions, if you recall, so I did a lot of preparing for the Tasks. I made it through the Maze, duelled Fleur Delacour _and_ Cedric Diggory. I also won the tournament," he added off-handedly.

"Mister Potter, watch your cheek. Very well, I will accept that you are more than a beginner, but what about these three others I see?"

"We helped Harry train," Draco said instantly. "He wouldn't be near as good as he is without our help, because we too are awesome."

"Mister Malfoy, mind _your_ cheek. Fine. I hadn't considered that some of you would be bored. You four are dismissed for the evening. I must think about this."

Not ones to waste opportunity, the four Slytherins high-tailed it out of the Great Hall as Professor Umbridge continued moving through the crowd of students dispensing praise and criticism.

"Well, that was good fortune," Daphne said with a giggle. "Something good came out of the tourney."

"I'm just as glad to have the time back," Draco said. "We've got to finish our Strengthening Solutions tomorrow, and I'm not done reading yet."


	12. Under The Train Platform

**Chapter Twelve - Under The Train Platform**

It was the beginning of October, and the weather was a bit chilly, even for this time of year. There had been cloudy skies for the past few days, and Professor Sinistra was growing increasingly irritated at being forced to cancel the nighttime Astronomy lessons. Though it inevitably happened every year, she always seemed to take it as a personal affront.

Harry was just as glad to have extra time to do his other assignments. He was keeping up, but only barely. Transfiguration continued to be a breeze for him, but things had gotten much more difficult in Charms, where Profesor Flitwick was reviewing the Banishing Charm. Harry had never quite got the hang of this one, and he was assigned homework along with everyone else.

Despite the courseload, he was still able to be at every Quidditch practice. Bletchley was running the reserves ragged by drilling them exactly as he did the first team. Draco had fallen behind in Herbology and Arithmancy just so he could get some sleep. Millie had skipped lunch and dinner for the same reason.

Harry spent most of the practice chasing after Laine as she tried valiantly to catch the snitch. He made it very difficult for her, but she was slowly learning how to play rough, how to be tricky, and how to do loops. Harry would also snatch the snitch away from her every time at the last minute. He refused to take it easy on her, even if she was a girl. She would only get better by competing against someone better than herself. The match against Gryffindor was a month away, and Harry had to keep in top form, even though he knew it would take a miracle for them to beat Slytherin.

After every practice, Harry would walk Laine back up to the castle, and they'd shared several more kisses since that first one in the sky. It wasn't proper snogging like Harry had done with Padma, but it was still very nice. He was looking forward to when the Hogsmeade visit was announced so that he could spend more time with Laine.

An owl dropped a bit of parchment in Harry's lap on Sunday evening as he was chewing delightedly on a mouthful of shepherd's pie. He swallowed and washed it down with a sip of pumpkin juice.

The note was from Dumbledore, requesting that he report to the staff room after dinner. It did not address Harry by name.

"I've got one too," Pansy said.

"Not me," Draco said.

"That's 'Neither have I', Draco," Tracy said.

"Prefect meeting?" Harry said to Pansy.

"Probably. There is that thing coming up."

"Yes. The thing."

"What thing?" Draco asked.

"The Hogsmeade weekend, obviously," Tracy replied.

"Oh good. You can tell us when it is," Draco said.

"We'll see," Harry said. "It all depends on what it is."

Up and down the Slytherin table, all the prefects had gotten notice. A quick glance over at the other tables revealed the same.

The staff room was on the same floor as the Defence classroom. Harry had been inside once before, when Professor Lupin had taken them to see a boggart. It had been unguarded then, but now the door was blocked by a suit of armour.

Harry glanced around at the other prefects. "What's the password?"

"I don't know."

"Who knows it?"

"I do," said Cedric Diggory. The Head Boy moved through the crowd to stand in front of the armour. "Earl grey."

The suit bowed politely and stepped out of the way. The door creaked open, revealing a long, panelled room, full of old, mismatched chairs and overflowing bookshelves. There was a long table in the middle, but no chairs.

The prefects filed in but remained standing. Within moments, Professor McGonagall strode through the door. With a wave of her wand, the table broke up into twenty-four hard wooden chairs all facing to one end of the room.

"Take a seat, please. Thank you for coming on such short notice. The Headmaster will be here shortly. You will not be kept long from your studies, but the news is quite urgent."

The door opened again, and Professor Dumbledore led in Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick. All the Heads of House, Harry noted. They stood up at the front with McGonagall.

"They are ready, Headmaster."

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall."

Dumbledore turned to the prefects. His hat was on straight, which it usually was not. He stroked his long, luxurious beard with one hand. He appeared every bit the great wizard he was, not the somewhat odd fellow he sometimes acted. His blue eyes gazed at them over his half-moon spectacles. The twinkle was still there, though muted a bit. He looked very serious indeed.

"It is not with capricious whim that I call you from your academic pursuits this marvellous evening. As you are no doubt well aware, the pursuit of knowledge can impose certain stresses on body and mind. It is known that periodic relaxation and entertainment are conducive to the health of both. For this reason, the visits to Hogsmeade village were established centuries ago. The present danger in the world posed by Lord Voldemort does not change that precedent. I might quite cheerfully argue that the added stress brought on by the war makes these visits even more essential. There will be a visit soon. I have asked you here tonight to tell you about your role in the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend. I want you to go about your day as usual. The teachers will be on roving patrol on the perimeter of the village. In the event of trouble, which we're not expecting because of the unannounced nature of the visit, you will help other students to evacuate and get to the safety of the castle while the teachers deal with the situation. The Aurors are on high alert for a signal as well. I must emphasize again that I do not expect trouble."

"Hem, hem."

All eyes turned to the entrance where Professor Umbridge stood holding a clipboard. She had now interrupted Dumbledore twice while he was giving a speech, yet she had the calmest, most serene expression you could imagine. Granted, she still looked like a toad, but she was definitely a serene toad.

"I'm afraid, Headmaster, that the Ministry believes otherwise."

Umbridge swept up to where Dumbledore stood and got between him and the prefects.

"Some of the best strategists in the Ministry believe that You-Know-Who will most definitely strike at the students of Hogwarts. After all, they are weak; helpless. They can be easily subdued and held hostage for their parents' good behaviour."

A cold chill ran up Harry's spine. That sick bastard would do it too!

"For that reason it was decided to keep the date a secret, Professor Umbridge." Dumbledore didn't look so keen on being interrupted again.

"A most wise strategem, Headmaster. Everything you've said was quite correct, but it is not enough, I am afraid."

"What else can there be?"

Professor Umbridge did not respond. She instead turned to the prefects, who were watching the teachers cautiously. They could hear the frosty and polite tones that Umbridge and Dumbledore were using with each other.

"You will be the last line of defence for the students. All prefects will remain sober during the Hogsmeade visit and will spend the day wandering, in other words 'patrolling', the village. You are to carry your wands and be ready to repel an attack. The teachers will be present as well, but with your authority goes responsibility. You must keep the students safe until the Aurors can arrive.

Bletchely raised his hand and waited to be recognized. "Why are the Aurors not stationed in the village?"

"A most reasonable question, Mister Bletchley. Because there are so many targets for him to choose from, the Aurors respond to trouble. There aren't enough Aurors yet to cover every important location all at the same time."

Bletchley accepted that point. He hadn't during the prefect meeting. Harry wondered what had made him back down.

"This is quite outrageous, Professor Umbridge," Dumbledore said. "The prefects patrol corridors looking for students out of bounds. They're not some kind of militia that you can conscript."

"Why do you think all prefects had to join the Ministry Youth?" she asked sweetly. "To get their basic skills up to scratch. They don't have to win against a Death Eater, just last long enough for help to come. I'm confident that they can. If I wasn't," she tittered, "why, if I wasn't, I shouldn't imagine I would even be allowing the visit in the first place."

"Allowing?" Dumbledore asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh my, yes," Umbridge said breathily. "It's just come in from Minister Fudge's office. Educational Decree number twenty-three."

"What is the Ministry taking now?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"'Insomuchas the protection of the children of our society is a paramount responsibility of all public servants, there shall be created a post of Hogwarts Security Officer, and such post shall be invested with authority over all such matters regarding the safety and integrity of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This position of Security Officer shall be immediately filled by Dolores Jane Umbridge, deemed qualified for the post by virtue of currently being Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School. Signed, Cornelius O. Fudge, Minister for Magic.'"

"Naturally I still expect to hear all of your ideas," Umbridge said, "but I will be making the final decision on all security matters from now on."

Dumbledore looked thunderstruck. "Fudge goes too far," he declared.

"Some would say he has not gone far enough, Headmaster." Harry wasn't certain he didn't hear a slight pause before she said Dumbledore's title. "But is this really the place to go over all the sordid events of the past four years? No, security is clearly a problem here, and I don't like problems."

Harry couldn't believe anyone was talking down to Dumbledore like this. Even Rita Skeeter put on a fake cheery smile when she was saying horrible things to him. She'd even called him an obsolete dingbat! But Umbridge was sweetness laid over stern stuff.

"Prefects, I have here a pouch of Galleons for each of you, courtesy of the Ministry. Go out and spend in the shops. Keep the economy going. They'll be having a grand opening sale on wand holsters at a new establishment in town for duelling supplies. Above all, I ask that you simply be ready for anything."

Harry took a pouch along with all the others as they filed out of the staff room. He exchanged glances with Pansy as they left. She looked very concerned.

"Watch it, Pansy, or you'll get wrinkles," he teased.

She stopped in her tracks. "Don't you dare suggest such a thing, Harry. I ought to hex you good." She touched her fingers to her face, feeling near her eyes and forehead.

"If you want to be immobilized and tickled, you're welcome to try."

Pansy shuddered. "That's awful. You know how ticklish I am."

"I do."

"Then why would you threaten me with it?"

Harry laughed. "Pansy, you just said you ought to hex me."

"I was going to be nice about it!"

Harry snorted. The absolute sincerity in her voice was matched by the shining of her dark green eyes. He didn't believe a bit of it.

They were far enough away from the rest of the prefects by now that they could turn down a side corridor without being noticed. Harry reached out and took Pansy's elbow. He pulled gently, veering her to the side and past a painting of three wizards wearing white, grey, and black robes respectively who were always arguing. A little further on there was a suit of armour, and beyond that a plain wooden door.

Harry guided Pansy inside and locked the door behind them. He never used a simple Locking Charm any more. He used his Locking Hex every night before bed, so it was by sheer habit that he booby-trapped the door with a Full-Bond Bind. When he turned and saw Pansy looking at him with something approaching awe, he flushed self-consciously.

"What?"

"That's not any Locking Charm I've ever heard."

"It's something a little more esoteric."

"You've been talking to Tracy again, I see."

"Well yes, but that's hardly the point."

"What is the point?"

"Constant vigilance. So what do you think about this idea of patrolling the village?"

Pansy harrumphed. "I sure hope no Death Eaters come at me. I'm dangerous when I try to cast Charms."

Harry laughed. "That's the spirit!"

"I can't believe they're expecting us to go into combat. We're not even half-qualified wizards! At least the upper students have taken the OWLs. They're sending us fifth-years to our deaths!"

"I'm sure it won't be that bad," Harry said reassuringly. "The Aurors will be only an Apparition away."

"Unless the Death Eaters put up Anti-Apparition fields. They can do that, you know."

"Yes, but it takes a fair bit of work, and the teachers will be here too. We'll be able to hold down the fort while we wait for help to come."

"So stupid," she complained. "Why don't they have more Aurors?"

"I don't know, Pansy. I wish I knew."

"You know, this isn't a conversation we couldn't have had in the common room," she said pointedly. "Why'd you drag me all the way in here?" She ran her fingers through her hair, tucking back a stray lock as she did so. "Change your mind about asking me out, have you?"

Harry started to flush and instantly deflected the heat.

"The way you keep on about it, I'm starting to think you want me to," he shot back.

"Don't think I haven't prepared a response for when you do."

"Of course you have."

"So what is it?"

"I think I'm going to ask out Laine."

"Excellent choice, Harry. Now, Laine loves butterbeer. Her favourite Qudditch team is Holyhead. She loves Lyranna Erato and Christinia Drade. Her best subject is Charms, her worst is Ancient Runes. She went to the Yule Ball with Thomas Lapointe, a sixth year now. She did not kiss him and made him out to be a wild animal during the course of the night. She hasn't gone out with anyone else since."

"She's also got a crush on me."

"Yes, well, there is that, but she told me some time ago that she wasn't going to let it interfere with being your friend. She wanted you any way she could get you. Frightfully mature attitude for a fourth year, don't you think?"

"Just a bit."

Pansy continued to tell Harry everything he could ever possibly want to know about Laine, not realizing that he probably wouldn't retain most of it. When they reached the common room, Harry took a deep breath to steady his nerves.

"Go get her, champ," Pansy said with a giggle.

Harry strode across the room to the round table where Laine sat with Ginny, Arcen, and Lucas. He had to do this quickly before he got distracted or lost his nerve. His heart was thudding in his throat, and he felt cold in his guts like he'd swallowed a blizzard. He liked Laine and knew that she liked him. So why wasn't asking her out any easier?

"Hi, Laine. Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me? When they announce the first visit, I mean? Maybe we could have lunch in the Three Broomsticks and walk around the village together."

Merlin, he was babbling. He closed his mouth and stared at her, hoping that the agony of this moment would soon be over.

Laine smiled at him, and a warmness flooded from his head down to thaw the block of ice in his stomach.

"That sounds delightful, Harry. Yes, I'd very much like to."

"Great."

"Any idea when that weekend will be?"

"Soon."

One word sentences were about all Harry felt he could manage at the moment.

"Then it shall be a surprise. I love surprises."

"Okay."

It was done. Harry could barely believe it. He inclined his head and moved as fast as he could to the dormitory.

Pansy followed him as far as the entrance to the dormitories. Harry sort of waved at her, his brain still not working enough to control his mouth. She gave him a withering glare and pointed down the boys' hall. He moved, and she was right behind him.

In the dormitory, Draco was sitting at his writing desk, head bent, quill scratching away. He glanced up at Harry's entrance, did a double-take upon seeing Pansy, and wiped his quill clean of ink with a sigh.

"I can see I'm not going to get my Arithmancy done. You'd better let me copy, Harry. All right, go ahead with whatever it is."

"Harry just asked out Laine Slater."

"Did she turn him down? Is that why he hasn't said a word yet?"

"She said yes, Draco Malfoy."

"Good for her. Well done, Harry. Now may I go back to my Arithmancy?"

"No. Guess what the prefects have to do."

"Attend a lesson on being smarmy gits?"

"Patrol Hogsmeade!" Pansy exploded. "Instead of hanging out and having fun, we have to walk the length of the village all miserable day. We're to be on guard for an attack, even though the date is still a secret."

"Voldemort is sure to have a plan ready to go when he does learn of the date."

"The teachers will be on the perimeter, but we've got to take charge of the students and get them back to the castle."

"Which is what bum-snogging prefects do, yes? Responsible for the behaviour of students when teachers are not present?"

"She warned us to be prepared to duel with Death Eaters!"

"She?" Draco's brow furrowed. "McGonagall?"

"Umbridge! The Minister made another Decree. He made this new position of Security Officer and put her in it. She has final say on all such matters."

Draco smirked. "What did Dumbledore say?"

"He was livid. Said that Fudge had gone too far."

"I say it's about time someone starting taking security seriously around here."

"Tell me about it," Harry agreed. "A Death Eater infiltrates the school and nearly steals the Philosopher's Stone. That same Death Eater also successfully broke into Gringotts, by the bye. A giant bloody basilisk gets set loose on the castle by a possessed first year, coupled with a completely incompetent Defence instructor. The best lesson we got that year was-"

Theo's dad.

Harry felt a sharp pang in his chest. Mr. Nott had treated Harry as though Theo had been inviting him by for years. He'd been a really smart man. His instruction on curses and counter-curses had been very easy to grasp. He'd known so much, and Harry found himself missing the man, despite his bad choices.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Draco said.

"Just thinking about Mister Nott."

Draco's face clouded. "He's a dead Death Eater. Thinking done."

Pansy looked sad. "He was our tutor before Hogwarts, you know. Taught us our letters, our numbers, magical history (mostly of the family sort), magical theory, and so very much more. He could even help me to understand things, and I'm a mediocre student at best. I miss him."

"He betrayed Harry. He went back to a life of slavery."

"He was an old man who was afraid of dying. You know a single Cruciatus would have killed him."

"I don't blame him for being afraid," Harry said. "Voldemort is pretty scary. As much as I might wish that Mister Nott had chosen differently, I don't really blame him. I'm just a kid. Who would think a kid like me could defeat the most evil Dark Lord ever?"

"He's not worthy of such forgiveness," Draco said harshly. "My father was brave enough to take a chance. Nott could have done the same."

"Are you rejecting him, then?" asked Pansy. "Completely and utterly?"

"I am."

"I wonder if you could make a better decision."

"I am afraid of what Voldemort will do to me if he catches me. My father raised me to respect his tremendous power and immeasurable capacity for cruelty. I knew that if he ever came back, we would have to bow down, but we were given a chance for redemption with Harry. He can defeat Voldemort. My father thought the odds were good enough. I have faith in him."

"Nott is hardly the only one who chose wrong. Look at Crabbe's father."

"He was scared too," Harry said. "So was Goyle's dad, for that matter. One chose right, one chose wrong. They're all scared. _We're_ all scared, but it doesn't change the fact that we have to stand up anyway."

* * *

Professor Umbridge had dismissed Harry and a few of his friends early from the first meeting of the Ministry Youth duelling club because they were already good at the first spell she was teaching, the Disarming Charm. She hadn't wanted them to lounge around and set a bad example for the other students. By the next meeting, she'd found a way for Harry and the more advanced spellcasters to participate. Sometimes people weren't making the wand motions precisely enough. Others had a sloppy grip. While everyone else worked to get a handle on the very basic spell, Harry and the others wandered through the group offering advice and encouragement. Most of the group could now cast the spell flawlessly and without effort. Once they'd gotten consistency, they'd worked on speed and repetition.

"Hem, hem. We have practiced the Disarming Charm now for two weeks. You have all done well to master it. Now we begin a new phase of our learning. How many of you fancy yourselves pretty handy with your hexes?"

A few students raised their hands.

Umbridge looked skeptical. "Hem, hem. Surely you are all too modest. Come now. Who knows a few good spells that can cause a little havoc? I'm not asking as your teacher. Tonight, in this room, I don't care about the rules. Death Eaters will not follow the rules. They'll use deceit and treachery to kill you. If you're going to stay alive, you'll need every weapon. Now, who can cast a few good hexes?"

Most of the students raised their hands.

"That's better. I've got a list here, and we're going to see see how well you each can do. Form a line."

They did so. Umbridge waved her wand, conjuring a wooden target for each student. She glanced down at her clipboard.

"The Jelly-Legs Jinx. You will cast until I tell you to stop. Yes, Mister Goyle?"

"What's the incantation?"

"I will not be telling you any of the words, nor showing you the wand motions. If you don't know, watch the others and try your best. The Jelly-Legs Jinx, if you please."

"_Os comme gelee!_"

Harry, Draco, Daphne, and Millie were all good at this one. They cast it several times as Professor Umbridge wandered down the line, observing and taking notes on her clipboard.

"The Jelly-Fingers Jinx."

"_Doigts comme gelee!_"

"The Jelly-Brain Jinx."

"_Psyche comme gelee!_"

"The Babbling Hex."

"_Blatherschite!_"

"The Tripping Jinx."

"_Lapso Accidere!_"

"The Impedient Jinx."

"_Impedimentia!_"

"The Full-Body Bind."

"_Petrificus totalis!_"

"The Binding Hex."

"_Obstringere!_"

"The Silencing Charm."

"_Silencio!_"

"The Stunning Spell."

"_Stupefy!_"

"The Reductor Curse."

This one was a bit nastier. It was the first properly destructive spell on Umbridge's list.

"_Reducto!_"

"The Blasting Curse."

"_Bombarda!_"

"The Severing Curse."

"_Diffindo!_"

"The Slicing Curse."

"_Ginsuto!_"

Professor Umbridge went through two dozen spells. Her quill never stopped scratching. They had finished the Inversion Jinx when she glanced at her watch.

"That appears to be our time for tonight. I'll see you back next Tuesday. In the meantime, I want you to practice the spells we've covered tonight. I expect to see improvement from each of you. Dismissed."

Harry walked next to Laine as the Slytherins headed down to the common room. With his busy schedule, most of their together time was spent walking from here to there.

"I'm knackered," she said, fighting off a yawn. "I don't think I've ever cast so much magic in one day."

"She worked us over pretty good. You didn't seem to do so badly."

"I didn't know half of those spells. You looked pretty comfortable though."

It was true. Harry had known all of the spells that Umbridge called off tonight. He'd learned even the more offensive spells for the tournament.

"You'll get there. All you need is a little practice.

"I joined the Ministry Youth because you said it was a good idea. I'm atrocious at duelling, but I keep trying because I know you don't want to see me quit."

"I'm flattered."

"You should be. Lucas told our parents what we've been doing, and they're very upset at me. Unladylike, they called it, just like I said."

Harry resisted the urge to snort with derision. "I call it being responsible for one's own safety."

"So did I. I don't want to be helpless if the Death Eaters come for me."

"And I want to be prepared for when I go looking for them."

"That's so brave, it might have been said by a Gryffindor."

"It's Slytherin ambition to see my parents avenged."

"One of the many things I admire about you, Harry."

"What are some of the other things?" he asked teasingly.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she laughed right back at him.

* * *

Harry was not looking forward to the Hogsmeade weekend. Last year, it had been a chance to visit the village with his mates, sneak some time with Remus and/or Sirius, and have a good snog with Padma. While he would be seeing the Marauders for some moonlight marauding, Saturday would be occupied with patrolling with the prefects. As part of the authority structure, they were to assist the staff in maintaining vigilance over the safety of the student body. He was part of the security precautions. Aside from his date with Laine, he would have a full day of patrolling. He got to walk around and spend the Ministry's gold. He resolved to buy Laine something nice for putting up with his mandatory roving.

Professor Dumbledore stood up at breakfast on Saturday, one week into October and raised his hands. The room fell silent.

"Those of you with signed permission forms may visit Hogsmeade today."

The cheering was tumultuous. The weekend was earlier than was customary, but Harry instantly surmised that it was for security purposes. Doing the unexpected, the bold, could give one an advantage - sometimes. Boldness for boldness' sake was a Gryffindor trait, but the strategic bit of boldness could advance Slytherin plans.

After breakfast, everyone rushed to their common rooms for cloaks and hats. Harry met Laine by the fireplace. She'd put on a light grey cloak with white fur trim. She had on a big hat of the same and wore a muff in front.

"Hi, Laine. You look very nice."

"Thank you, Harry. That's a very nice broach."

"This old thing?" It was one of the many interesting tidbits Harry had found while cleaning Grimmauld Place. Most of the jewelry they'd found was done in the Black family crest; quite a few other pieces had been inspired by snakes. Harry had kept an emerald set in silver, surrounded by snakes.

"Where did you get it?"

"Sirius' mother gave it to me." A slight distortion of the truth.

"How thoughtful of her."

"She wasn't using it anymore. Shall we go?"

They meandered on their way up to the front door and out on to the path. The Slytherins made certain to apply the Self-Warming Charm before venturing out into the elements. The wind seemed to blow right through them anyway as they hurried down to the village.

Until they reached the front gates of the castle, there was silence between them. The cold had stolen all of his words.

"Hey, Harry, I've got an idea."

"What's that?"

"You know the train platform?"

"I'm reasonably familiar with it, yes."

"Let's go crawl under it."

"Under it? What for?"

"For cover. Nobody will be able to see us there."

"That's good why?"

"So we can have a private snog."

"Oh." Harry felt himself starting to blush.

Laine giggled. "Oh, it's just too easy. You're so cute when you're embarrassed."

"Er-"

"Come under the platform," she said persuasively. "I'll give you something to turn red about."

While this hadn't exactly been his plan, Harry couldn't think of any good reason not to go with her, so he did. Normally students crossed the train tracks and passed the platform on the way to town. There were no other buildings here, just a few scattered trees.

It was easy to slide a few boards out of the way and crawl under the platform. It was much less windy in here. Harry drew his wand and cast a Cushioning Charm on the grassy ground. He sprawled out and looked over at her.

"I believe you mentioned something about wanting a snog?" he said cheekily.

"Why yes, I believe you're correct," she replied with a grin. "Are you ready for me?"

"I am."

"Not likely, but here I come anyway."

Laine sprang at him and bounced slightly on the Cushioning Charm. He reached out to catch her as she tried to grab ahold of him. This of course resulted in catastrophic injury.

"Ow!" they said together as they bumped heads.

"Sorry," she said.

"No, my fault."

"Okay."

Harry laughed, the pain fading away. He hugged Laine, stroking her hair.

"You've got a hard head," she complained.

"Hard enough to deflect a Killing Curse."

"That's not funny."

"I think it's called a defence mechanism."

"Your head?"

"Making jokes about it. It's supposed to be a way of dealing with things. Sirius talked about it. There's humour in everything, no matter how dark the joke may be. It may be a bit impolitic to share the laugh at times, but laughter is good for the human spirit. It reminds us that life is worth living, even when it really doesn't seem like it sometimes."

"Sounds like you listened pretty good when Sirius spoke."

"What he said made sense. He knows what he's talking about. Do you know he makes jokes about his time in prison? About the old, awful _prison_. He laughs at it. Not good jokes, nothing jolly, but he laughs."

"He's quite a man," Laine said, "but you'll do until I get old enough for him without it being creepy."

"That would be about never."

"Hey, we're magical. What's a couple decades when you live for at least a century?"

"I thought you wanted to snog," Harry said, changing the subject.

"Oh yes, that."

Laine ran her fingers through his hair, sending tingles down his spine. She pulled his head up as she leaned down. Their lips met in a sweet, gentle kiss. Harry ran his hand up her arm to her head. He traced a finger down her cheek, and she exhaled sharply through her nose. She kissed him more passionately.

Time passed quite enjoyably. Harry's lips grew swollen from the long bouts of mashing. A certain other part of his body also became swollen, and Harry did his best to keep Laine from learning about that. He made a note to inquire amongst the upper boys if there were a concealment spell suitable for such an occasion.

They were relaxing for a moment, simply holding each other, when suddenly Harry heard the sound of footsteps. He glanced back lazily through the slats of the platform and drew his wand with a whispered swear.

"What is it?"

"Trouble. Those look like Death Eaters. I'll draw them off. You run and get help."

Of course those idiots would pick _now_ to start trouble. Right when things were going so well, too. Oh well. He'd just have to ask Laine out on a make-up date if he lived through this.

Harry reached into his pocket and drew out the invisibility cloak that had once been his father's. He fastened it around his shoulders, noting that it was much closer to fitting him than it ever had been before. He pulled up the hood and concealed his wand in the oversize sleeve.

Slowly, Harry climbed the steps to the platform. Death Eaters, all right. Five of them. They were darting from tree to tree, clearly hoping to sneak up on the village. Harry was determined that they would advance no further.

Without warning, Harry began raining down hexes and curses on the black-robed men. Three of them were incapacitated when one finally managed to strike back. He sent a spell back at the platform. It moved slowly, but Harry recognized it and began to run.

The bolt of yellow energy slammed into the train platform, and the air began to hum as it started glowing. Harry leapt off, but the explosion caught him in mid-air, propelling him several metres. Thankfully he missed impacting with any trees and landed roughly in the tall grass.

He stood up and cast a Full-Body Bind at the nearest Death Eater, who was trying to revive the one Harry had Stunned. He dodged a well-aimed spell from the other, who was getting amazingly close, even though Harry was invisible.

He had to dodge mid-way through his next Stunner, and soon that third Death Eater had freed the remaining two while Harry tried to get out of the line of fire.

Fortunately Harry had survived long enough for help to arrive. Professor Flitwick came charging into view, a more welcome sight never seen.

"Only five!" he challenged boldly. "I won't even break a sweat."

Flitwick didn't waste time with hexes or curses. At his command, the trees reached down and seized the Death Eaters. Unable to point their wands, they were harmless.

"Well done, sir!"

"Potter! What the blazes are you doing out here?"

"Holding off trouble. They started to get the better of me."

"Collect their wands. We'll hold them until the Aurors get here."

"Death Eaters! Vanish!"

"Stop them!" Harry yelled.

But it was too late. The five prisoners Disapparated, leaving the trees holding empty air.

"Damn!"

"Get back to the village, Potter. They may still be out there."

Harry ran.

Professor McGonagall was pointing her wand at a building that looked to be in the process of collapsing. A line of third years ran past her. Harry whipped out his wand and pointed it at the broken support. With a wave, the support was repaired and duplicated. Harry sent one to either side, and once they were in place, Professor McGonagall lowered her wand.

"Well done, Mister Potter. Fifteen points to Slytherin. Get the rest of them out and back to the castle now."

"Professor Flitwick caught five Death Eaters, but they got away. He thinks they're still out there."

"Thank you, Potter. Take care of the students."

Harry urged the dozen students remaining to run for the castle. Everyone else had already evacuated. He hurried and caught up just as the last were crossing over on to the protected grounds.

"Harry!" Pansy looked panicked. "Oh, thank Merlin you're safe."

"What a day. Has anyone seen Laine?"

"I thought she was with you."

"We got separated."

"I'm here."

Laine threw her arms around Harry and squeezed him mightily.

"You stupid, brave wizard! Five Death Eaters! What were you thinking? You could have been killed!"

"What?" Pansy, Draco, Daphne, Tracy, and several other people all said at once. A babble of questions broke out.

"Yes, five Death Eaters," Harry admitted, "but I got the drop on them. I almost had them, but it's a good thing Professor Flitwick showed up when he did."

"Five of them?"

Everyone was pouring into the Great Hall. Prefects were counting students. Up at the high table, Cedric was consulting with the other seventh year prefects.

Harry saw Professor Umbridge enter and move to speak with Dumbledore. The old wizard's face grew sad, and then resolve returned.

"Attention please, there must be silence. Mister Diggory, what is the count?"

"All students present and accounted for, Headmaster."

"Excellent. Well done, prefects. Ten points to you all."

Harry certainly wouldn't turn down ten points, even if all houses got the same boost.

"Our best understanding of the situation is that two groups of Death Eaters approached the village on foot from either direction. One group was spotted by Professor Sinistra and captured by Professor Sprout with her always enjoyable Tangling Trance Blossoms. Ladies, I wish I could give you house points, but I'm afraid you'll have to do with special awards."

"Only if Mike gets one too," Sprout called over the applause.

"Beg pardon?"

"Mike. The Trance Blossom, like so many other of the interesting species we study in Herbology, displays sentient behaviour. It is therefore only right that it have a name."

"You chose Mike?"

"It's a perfectly fine name. It could have been Alvin."

"That's a dorky name," Daphne whispered. "What about Ronald?"

Harry suppressed a snicker of laughter.

"We shall see what the school rules say about awarding non-wizards. As I said, there were two bands of Death Eaters. The other group encountered Mister Potter of Slytherin House-"

Louder cheering than for the professors erupted.

"In a great display of skill and ability, Mister Potter managed to prevent them from doing any harm. It is a deed quite worthy of fifty points."

There was more deafening cheering.

"What I am about to tell you should not in any way detract from the pride we all feel in our staff and prefects, but it appears as though the attack on Hogsmeade was a feint, a diversion. There's been trouble in Diagon Alley."

Whispers broke out all across the hall.

"It was a brazen strike. People were killed, shops razed, and shopkeepers kidnapped. I don't have any more details than that. The Ministry has told us all that it can."

From the firm set of Dumbledore's face, Harry was willing to bet that the Ministry had a lot of explaining to do. All the good feeling he'd had in light of the action in Hogsmeade vanished.

* * *

That night after everyone had gone to bed, Harry lay awake. His mind racing, his emotions seething, Harry was still too pumped up to sleep. Over and over, the events of the afternoon played in his head.

Harry suddenly found himself with the urge to talk to Sirius. He hadn't told him about the attack. It was actually a bit surprising that Sirius hadn't tried to call Harry. He rummaged in his trunk for the magic mirror.

"Sirius Black!"

"Harry Potter!"

"Hi, Sirius. Hope I didn't wake you."

"I've been waiting for your call. What took you so long? Been celebrating saving the school?"

"Hah. Not likely. Ancient Runes homework. Earned a cool fifty points for that, though."

"Well done. Tell me what happened."

"Well, I was under the train platform when I heard the Death Eaters."

"What exactly were you doing under the train platform?"

That tale took many minutes in and of itself.

"I see. I'm glad you're moving on after Padma. This is healthy and normal."

"It's been pretty fun so far."

"So there you were, snogging away."

"I heard the Death Eaters approaching. I put on my invisibility cloak, went to high ground, and started hexing them."

"Just tell me one thing. Where in all of this did you consider that taking on five Death Eaters might not be the smartest thing in the world?"

"I knew you were going to ask that. I did think of that, but who else was going to do it? I'm a prefect, and that's what we were supposed to do. I nearly had them."

"A remarkable feat in and of itself. No injuries?"

"Nope. Just a bit panicked now that it's all over. Would you and Moony like some company tomorrow night?"

"Most certainly. You remember how to get past the Whomping Willow, right?"

"I can run right under the branches."

"Meet us in the Shrieking Shack after curfew."

"See you then!"

Harry slept poorly, troubled as he was by dreams of Death Eaters killing and rampaging. He skipped breakfast and actually stayed in bed all day Sunday. He alternately dozed and worked on his Transfiguration essay through the afternoon and evening and only left the dormitory for dinner. From there, Harry snuck out of the school with the greatest of ease. While a boy might raise alarm if seen, nobody would care about a small mammal. He crossed the grounds in his mongoose form, taking it at a dead run. He was downright quick when he wanted to be. He slipped under the sweeping branches of the Whomping Willow and into the tunnel concealed beneath its roots.

In the Shrieking Shack, Harry saw no need to resume his human form. He hopped up on the windowsill and peered out between the boards through the dirty window.

Sirius and Remus Apparated in a few minutes later. Harry hopped down, and now he did change back.

"Harry, good to see you!"

"Thanks, Sirius. How are you, Remus?"

"Oh, I've been better. I think we're actually just in time."

Moony had no sooner finished speaking when he doubled over in pain. Harry and Sirius flashed into their animal forms. With an unearthly howl, Remus turned into Moony, and the night began.

* * *

**SECURITY OFFICER CHANGES PLAN; SAVES LIVES**

by Rita Skeeter

The Ministry of Magic passed Educational Decree Number Twenty-three one week ago, granting authority over all matters related to security to Professor Dolores Jane Umbridge. Already she has made key changes about the traditional Hogsmeade visits, and those changes have saved lives.

Thanks to the gallant heroics of the Hogwarts prefects and teachers, tragedy was averted during the diversionary attack on Hogsmeade village. (For details on the on-going reconstruction of Diagon Alley, turn to page 3.) Ten Death Eaters were prevented from penetrating the perimeter, duelled to a standstill, and forced to retreat by Professors Sprout, Sinistra, and Flitwick. Lending a hand was Slytherin prefect Harry Potter.

"Professor Umbridge gave us some additional responsibility," Mr. Potter told this reporter. "Before we were just supposed to help evacuate in the event of an attack, but Professor Umbridge put us on patrol looking for trouble. Trouble found me, just like it always does. I signalled for help and did my best to hold them off until Professor Flitwick arrived. He did most of the work, really."

It is not the first time in recent weeks that the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has used new laws to effect improvements at the wizarding school. As recently as 30 August, Educational Decree Number Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current Headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person.

"That's how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts," said Rose Brown, junior Assistant to the Minister, last night. "Headmaster Dumbledore had no worthy candidates, and the governors were divided, so the Minister appointed Umbridge. Of course, she's been an immediate success, totally revolutionizing the teaching of Defence Against the Dark Arts and providing the students with real lessons that they'll need to learn in order to survive these Dark times."

Rumors of that updated curriculum have spoken alarmingly of all but establishing an Auror training facility at the school. When questioned about the rigorous, physical demands of the course this year, Brown had this to say. "Security is a very broad area. The Security Officer will be responsible for all aspects, and that includes making sure that students can adequately defend themselves. The recent attack on Hogsmeade village only illustrates the point. In addition to making sure the castle's protections are up to scratch, the Security Officer will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are giving our students the strong education they need in these Dark times."

The headline of the Daily Prophet was all anyone could talk about at breakfast. While the prefects had spread the word about Umbridge being Security Officer, the knowledge that she could potentially affect their other teachers was new.

"Maybe she'll sack Hagrid for still not being here," Millie said.

"Is Grubbly-Plank not good?" Pansy said.

"Oh, she's perfectly competent. I want him sacked so she'll be our teacher forever."

"Why don't we suggest that to her? We've got to get to class."

"Hey, lay off Hagrid," Harry interjected. "I'm sure there's a very good reason he's not here to share his critters."

"Great, dangerous beasties," Millie muttered.

Professor Umbridge arrived just before the bell, so they did not have a chance to speak with her. They had to hurry down to the dungeons, and they decided to give up on the whole thing.

Weasley glanced up at Draco and Harry as they sat down at their work stations. He said nothing, looking back down at his parchment, which he was scribbling furiously on.

"Behind on the homework, Weasley?" Harry asked casually.

"Shut up, Potter."

Draco chuckled lightly. Any further banter was cut off as Snape closed the dungeon door with an echoing bang. Everybody immediately fell silent.

"You will notice," said Professor Snape, in his low, sneering voice, "that we have a guest with us today."

He gestured towards the back of the dungeon, and Harry saw Professor Umbridge trying to enter the classroom unobtrusively, clipboard in her hand.

"You will pay her no mind and will give me your undivided attention as always. We are continuing with our Strengthening Solution today. You will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson; if correctly made, they should have matured well over the weekend. The instructions are on the board. Carry on."

Professor Umbridge spent the first half hour of the lesson making notes in her corner. Harry ignored her and focused on his potion. This was a tricky one because he had to make a peripheral potion perfectly and then add a precise amount of it to the matured Strengthening Solution. He picked up the powdered dandelion sap and began to measure.

Umbridge got off her stool and approached Snape from behind. "The class seems fairly advanced for their level," she said briskly.

Snape straightened up slowly and turned to look at her. Harry couldn't resist glancing up out of the corner of his eye. Snape looked like he thought Umbridge was a toad too.

"I have high standards for my students."

"A laudable thing, to be sure, and I think the Strengthening Solution is just the sort of thing they should know given the threat we all face."

"Of a certainty."

"Now, how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" she asked, her quill poised over her clipboard.

"Fourteen years," Snape replied. His expression was unfathomable.

"You applied first for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape.

"Yes," said Snape quietly.

"But you were unsuccessful?"

Professor Snape's lip curled.

"Obviously."

Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard.

"You have applied regularly for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?"

"Yes," said Snape quietly, barely moving his lips. He looked very angry.

"Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?" asked Umbridge.

"I suggest you ask him," said Snape jerkily.

"Oh, I shall," said Professor Umbridge, with a sweet smile.

"I suppose this is relevant?" Snape asked, his black eyes narrowed.

"Oh yes," said Professor Umbridge, "yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers - er – backgrounds."

She turned away, walked over to Pansy and began questioning her about the lessons.

"Do you feel that the lessons are very difficult?"

"That's not a fair way of saying it," Pansy replied. "Professor Snape expects a lot from us. So yes, the lessons are challenging, but it's not without purpose. We're trying to expand our knowledge of the art of potion-making. You can't do that by brewing a Scintillating Solution every week."

"Well said," Draco chimed in.

"Do you agree, Mister Malfoy?"

"Absolutely. Professor Snape is the best teacher here. He doesn't coddle you one bit. I'm proud of every single mark I earn in his class, because I know I've earned it. I can prove these marks. Ask me to do anything I've tested on, give me a few minutes with my notes, and let me at it."

Professor Snape seemed to have made out well in his inspection, but Professor Umbridge wasn't through shaking things up in her first day on the job. At lunch she stood up and walked out to the front of the high table.

"Hem, hem."

The chatter died down.

"Thank you. I wish to inform you that all student organizations are hereby disbanded."

The uproar was deafening. Umbridge waited patiently. Eventually people wanted answers and allowed her to give them.

"There is not enough seriousness being given to the fact that the world is at war. The chaos caused by only ten Dark wizards during the Hogsmeade weekend is completely unacceptable. You-Know-Who is out there, and you've got to be ready for the Death Eaters when they come again. The Gobstones Club, for example, detracts valuable time that could be better spent learning a counter-curse. The Ministry Youth club will be meeting tonight after dinner here in the Great Hall."

"Does that include Quidditch?" came a yell from the Gryffindor table.

"Quidditch is necessary for maintaining morale. Sport is something the whole school can be invested in and is therefore valuable. If you feel that your group ought to be allowed to reconvene, set up a meeting with me to present your case."

"Well that's a relief," Laine said. "I rather enjoy Quidditch practice."

"Me too," Harry agreed, giving her a wink.

Laine blushed, but she winked back at him.

Umbridge certainly wasn't sitting on her newfound authority. Harry didn't quite know what to think. On the one hand, people did need to take the war seriously, but on the other hand, they needed their diversions too. Right, that was why she'd left Quidditch alone. Her decree was all anyone could talk about as they walked to Transfirguration. Naturally they did not talk in old McGonagall's class, but on the way to Herbology and throughout the work Professor Sprout set them to, everyone wondered what other areas Umbridge would poke her nose into.

* * *

Despite her new duties as Security Officer, Umbridge still found the time to plan interesting meetings of the Ministry Youth.

"Hem, hem. Before we begin, I wish to single out Mister Potter for some words of praise."

Harry lifted his chin slightly as many eyes turned his way.

"During the attack on Hogsmeade, Mister Potter reacted just as I hope any of you would react when trouble strikes. He was prepared for the Death Eaters, and, when he discovered their intrusion, he leapt into action. He concealed himself and used strong magic at the first. He incapacitated several of the Death Eaters and nearly overcame the whole group."

Umbridge paused for a moment.

"The whole group," she repeated. "There were five of them; unthinkable odds. Yet had there only been four, I believe Mister Potter could have defeated them all. He came very close. Fifty points seems so inadequate for such a triumph. That's only ten for each Death Eater he faced."

Umbridge looked at Harry now. "Mister Potter, you have my thanks and the thanks of the Minister. We are very proud of you. You are an example to others."

"Thank you, Professor." Harry hated being singled-out for things he'd had no part in. He despised being the Boy-Who-Lived, but in a situation like this, or a Quidditch match, where he'd done something himself, Harry had no problem at all with the attention.

"Thank _you_, Mister Potter. Now, when we last met, I had you run through a series of hexes and jinxes. There are a few of you how seem to know how to cast a hex. Would the following students please step forward? Potter, Malfoy, Greengrass, Bulstrode, Palce, Bletchley, Chandler, Bole, Boot, Corner, Rookwood, Weasley, Weasley, Diggory, and Summerby."

Harry moved up with the others.

"I require your help, gentlemen and ladies. After the Disarming Charm, the next best spell to know is a strong Shield Charm. We will practice the Protego Charm. Does anyone not know it? Yes, Mister Malfoy?"

"Professor Moody made sure we knew how to cast it."

"Very well. Let's see how closely you all paid attention to his lessons. Everyone spread out. Would my wonderful assistants please do your best to hex the lot of them?"

"Professor?" Connie Rookwood asked, raising her hand.

"Yes, dear?"

"Will we be able to practice the Shielding Charm too?"

"Of course, dear, but right now, I need you to help the others get it. Once they can cast it well, we'll turn the tables and have you practice shielding while they work on the hexes."

Harry dearly wished that Ron Weasley was in the Ministry Youth. He'd love to have the chance to hex the prat with the full blessing of a teacher (other than Professor Snape).


End file.
